Ginger's Adventures V: Ginger and the American Feathered Force
by Ginger the Barn Owl
Summary: Ginger's worst fears are realized when she finds herself back in the place she was born, the state of Georgia. A trained force of Bald Eagles, calling themselves the American Feathered Force, invite her into their ranks until she is able to return home. But when the A.F.F.'s greatest enemies attack the area, it will be up to Ginger to help the eagles thwart their savage operation.
1. WORD OF WARNING

**WARNING**

This story contains reference to the author's political views.  
If you do not wish to know of these opinions, or if you disagree  
with them, it is recommended that you do not read  
this story. You have been warned.


	2. Prologue

_"Fight, soldiers, fight! And don't stop until the winds have died!"_

 _Ginger called to the rest of the group. They had been caught in a particularly strong storm, stronger yet than the one they had run into on their way to the Amazon. Their wings soaking and their gizzards in despair, they struggled just to stay above the water. Ginger attempted to keep up everyone's spirits, but the gusts only grew stronger and more frequent, and the rain seemingly came down in buckets, drenching them._

 _It was then that they were confronted by another gust, this one stronger than the others they had faced, that nearly blew them apart. Unk looked behind him. All he could see were the faint silhouettes of the birds following him._

 _"Let's do a head count!" he screamed. "Felipe!?"_

 _"I'm in the back!"_

 _"Mario!? Caesar!?"_

 _"Here!" Felipe's two brothers announced simultaneously._

 _"What about Aloiso!?"_

 _The third macaw gave a squawk to announce his location._

 _"How's Nigel holding up!?"_

 _Felipe eyed the cockatoo on the small, wooden raft. He tightly clutched the preserver, but it was obvious that he was beginning to lose strength._

 _"Still aboard, but probably not for much longer! We need to find a way out of this!"_

 _"Right! Uklah!?"_

 _"I'm here!"_

 _"Phillip!?"_

 _"Intact!"_

 _"Vaygar!?"_

 _"Present!"_

 _"Kludd!"_

 _"Unk, she's gone!" the Barn Owl responded._

 _"Who!? Who's gone!?"_

 _"GINGER!"_

* * *

 _..._

* * *

 _"This CANNOT be happening!" Ginger flew on, desperately trying to locate the rest of the band, but with no success. She was overwhelmed by emotions; infuriated that she had lost her comrades in this cursed monsoon, horror-stricken that she wasn't far from being considered helpless in the weather she was in, and in despair at the thought of failing to return home, and to be consumed by the raging ocean not far below. The young general only feared the worse, but still she flew. She refused to surrender to the mercilessness of the storm around her. She fought, she screeched...and she remembered.  
Ginger remembered the first time she had been caught in a storm like this. It was the time she had left her hollow in Georgia, and when she had been rescued by Jatt and Jutt. She remembered awakening from her near-death state, to be greeted by the Tytonic Union. The bittersweet memories flooded her young brain, and they overwhelmed her even more so than the storm. What if she never laid eyes on any of them again? What if this really was...the end?  
_

...No.

 _Ginger felt a surge of energy course through her veins, and she flapped harder, faster, more determined than ever to find what she had lost. But a flash of lightning interrupted her search, darting across the sky mere feet in front of her. The harsh crack of the bolt in her sensitive ears paired with the blinding light proved to be just as deadly as being hit, and the Barn Owl's wings refused to respond anymore. She was going yeep._

So this is what it all comes to, _she said to herself as she watched the waves draw nearer with each passing moment._ This really is the end of Ginger Wingren.

 _Ginger stared at the waves, solemnly accepting her fate. One crest, nearly the size of an oak tree, rose and collapsed over her, dragging her into the seas. She pushed herself upward to get one final look at the world around her before she san into the depths, thrashing helplessly about. She stopped not long after starting, knowing it was useless anyway. And yet, she could have sworn she saw the figure of a bird hovering over her, and grabbing her by the wings before lifting her out of the water._

The angels have come to take away my scroom. Soon, I shall be in the presence of my ancestors and Glaux.


	3. Chapter 1: No Owl Gets Left Behind

The grassy island the group of owls had run into on their way to the Amazon grew clearer on the horizon. The ten remaining birds hastened to reach the small landmass, both to rest their aching wings and to ponder the location of the missing general. Unk lead them to land just off the narrow shore, the thin line of sand between the calming waters and the tall grass. The storm clouds had begun to disperse, the wind had settled, and the rain had started to lift. But they were still horrified.

"Alright," The pit guardian drew in a deep breath, then let it out through his small, black beak before scanning the array of soldiers once more. Except, of course, for Ginger, they were all present. The only one not grouped with the others was Nigel. Mildly concerned, Unk turned toward the battered raft. The soaking-wet cockatoo stumbled out of it, staggered forward, then fell face first onto the soft sand. Vaygar fluttered over, landing just inches away from his head.

"You alright, Nigel?"

The flightless bird raised his head, then looked the Grass Owl in the eye.

"You...I suppose you fellas are...gonna try to find her?"

"You think you should stay here for a while?"

"Think!" Nigel retorted, quickly losing the little energy he had remaining. "I know it!"

He then collapsed again, wanting to do nothing but lay there motionless. Still, Vaygar and Uklah dragged him further inland so he would not be swept out to sea by waves, letting him rest on the grass.

"I think we're all accounted for," Phillip announced. "...Now what?"

"I'll tell you what we do," Felipe spoke up. "We're gonna go find her."

"Find her!?" Uklah was astonished. What were the chances of finding a single owl in the vastness of the ocean? Plus, what were the chances of finding her alive at all?

"Do you really think we can?" Vaygar questioned, though with hope in his gizzard.

"We have to," the macaw continued. "Dead or alive, we have to find Ginger."

"I like the way you think, Felipe," Unk complimented. "Everyone, listen to what he says!"

They all turned toward the clan leader.

"I mean, really. Look at what she did for all of us. She leads the four of you into battle," He pointed at the four trainees. "She risked almost everything on her mission to the Blue side of the river, and to top everything off, she gave us the strength to fight off that logger invasion. I say we should return the favor. Don't you guys think that's what she would want us to, anyway?"

Uklah, Vaygar, and Phillip all exchanged looks and nodded. The macaw was absolutely right.

"What do you think, Kludd?" the Sooty Owl questioned, turning toward the older warrior.

Kludd remained speechless, looking down at the ground, and breathing heavily. He was obviously distraught over the loss of their general. It was well known that Ginger got along famously with all of her troops, but there had almost always been a special connection between the two Tyto Albas. Many of the older owls claimed it to be love, and while Ginger and Kludd would often deny their comments, they both knew deep within their gizzards that it was true. Their relationship had only begun to blossom, and now Ginger had vanished without a trace in the storm. Would they ever find her? Was she even alive. All of the thoughts made Kludd's head spin like the very cyclone Ginger was swept away in, and he let his wings fall limply to his sides, the rest of him following soon afterward.

"Kludd!" Uklah screeched, rushing to the Barn Owl and lifting him back onto his talons.

"Are..." She looked within his eyes. They were hollow and emotionless, almost as though he had been moonblinked. "Are you alright?"

"No...No, I'm not," he replied. His voice was just as lifeless as his eyes. "And I may never be."

"Don't say such things, Kludd," Uklah replied, though she knew it wouldn't do any good. "We'll find her, we promise."

Kludd refused to respond. He was too overwhelmed to speak about it for any longer. Phillip, who had always possessed a very empathic nature, slowly approached.

"If...If it makes you feel any better," he stuttered. "Maybe you could stay here with Nigel while we look?"

The Barn owl lazily turned his head toward the Sooty, then sighed.

"I suppose...I...I can barely lift my wings anyway."

"Do you really suppose you can find her?" Vaygar questioned yet again. This time, Kludd's amber eyes flared with a determined rage, infuriated that the Grass Owl would dare question the search.

"You have to," he almost growled. "No owl is to be left behind!"

The rest of the group interchanged looks again, then nodded, solidifying their decision.

"Alright," Caesar agreed. "Let's fill our gizzards and move out!"

It only took a handful of minutes for the band of birds to hunt down a field mouse each, slip it down their throats, then line up along the shoreline in preparation for takeoff.

"Hm..." It was Felipe's first time consuming a mouse, as well as his brothers'. He wasn't entirely sure if it was a first for Aloiso, though. "I've tasted worse..."

"Kludd," Unk went over to the young warrior once more. "Are you sure you aren't willing to join the search party? You do know Ginger better than the rest of us."

"Sorry. Someone needs to stay with Nigel, make sure he has shelter and knows how to hunt. Besides, I wouldn't risk it. If I discover her..." He couldn't get the words out of his beak, but both he and the pit guardian knew what he meant. "...If she were to be found...gone...I swear, I would launch myself into the sky, dive into the deepest depths of the ocean and share her fate."

Unk was shocked by his response. He would kill himself should the general be found dead? The Horned Owl knew that convincing him otherwise wouldn't prove effective, though, so he turned away, leaving him with a final word.

"We should return within the next two weeks if not sooner. Depends on whether or not we come up empty-taloned. Make shelter for yourself and Nigel in case of another storm, and teach him the basics of mouse hunting!"

"I got all that!" Kludd shouted as he watched his companions lift off into the darkening horizon. The last thing he saw from them was Felipe and his brothers looking back toward the island before they all disappeared beyond his sight. He turned toward the cockatoo.

"Do...Do you really think they can find her?"

Nigel turned toward him and sighed.

"...I can't say for sure."

The two birds simply sat in the edge of the island and watched the sun begin to slip beneath the horizon.

 _If there is indeed a Glaux,_ the Barn Owl prayed silently. _I beg that if there is a way, she will return alive and unharmed._


	4. Chapter 2: Held Captive

_What the hagsmire is happening to me?_

Ginger stood to her feet, finding herself in a small stone cell. Just like the one she'd been in when she awoke among the Pure Ones. Had she been rescued by her fellow Pure Ones? Was she back in the Tytonic base? Had the accident ever happened?...Had she ever actually BEEN in the Beaks? What if it was all a cycle, and she would be greeted by Jatt and Jutt again, only to redo all of her previous actions leading up to being separated from her companions? Would she be trapped in such a cycle for ever? Was it all real? Was she even alive? Ginger's mind was ablaze with horror. Before she let her mind question everything she'd ever been through, she smacked herself with her wing.

 _Quit being so ridiculous!_ she scolded herself. _That's insane. It can't possibly be...Can it?_

The owl swiveled her head around, trying to spot anything familiar, just in case. There didn't appear to be any entryways to the stone cell, which meant there was no escape either, and that she would probably not be greeted by the two Long-Eared Owls. The knot forming in her gizzard told her that she was indeed alive, and that she was far from home, It quickly tightened into warning her she was in a place she shouldn't be. Was she being held hostage? Would she ever be let out? And where in the world was she, anyway? Ginger decided it wouldn't be any good just sitting there idle, especially when there could be someone on the outside to aid her escape. She fluffed her feathers, then let out an ear-piercing shree, long and loud, to ensure any soul outside that there was a living owl trapped inside. After the shree stopped echoing throughout the room, she placed an earslit against the wall. Surely someone had heard her cry for help. The general began to pace back and forth in the room, awaiting a response of some sort. It wasn't very long before Ginger heard voices on the outside.

"Finally, someone to rescue me," she whispered. Tilting her head in all different directions, she listened in on the conversation.

 _"Do you think that was her?"_

 _"Had to have been. Barn Owls are known for their screams."_

She studied the voices. Two males, perhaps in their early thirties. There was little doubt that they were talking about her.

 _"Do you think it's safe to lift the cell?"_

 _"Not sure. Did you see that metal all over her feet?"_

 _"Who couldn't? Not to mention that mask over her face. You think she's wearing it to hide her identity, or something like that?"_

 _My armor._ Ginger eyed the bronze claws, then felt over the mu-bronze alloy mask over her face with her port wing. They had been her signature means of attack-and defense-ever since she had proved herself worthy of Pure One material.

 _"You don't think those claw things are weapons, do you?"_

 _"Couldn't say. But we best confiscate them as soon as we get the chance. Wouldn't want to take any chances."_

 _Holy racdrops._ The horrible realization struck her like a lightning bolt. _I'm a_ _PRISONER!_

She eyed her claws again, growling, readying herself for any sort of conflict. _Confiscation...Not on my watch. If they dare try anything with me, I'll be happy to show 'em how they're used._

 _"You think she'll attack?"_

 _"What do you think the barred cell's for?"_

 _"Oh. Right. You think she can hear us?"_

 _"Probably not. She was delirious when we found her. Doubt she heard anything, if much. Maybe she pictured something and got scared."_

 _Idiots. They underestimate my power._

 _"Alright, Dave. Lift the rock cell."_

It was then that the walls of the cell began to lower, revealing what was outside. Ginger found that the stone cell was within another, barred cell. A prison cell, no doubt. And then the walls lowered enough to unveil the two creatures outside. They were both huge Bald Eagles, and they both wore camouflage helms on the tops of their heads. They were definitely not Hoolian helmets, which often covered a portion of the face as well. The two eagles looked at each other, then back to her. Ginger watched anxiously as their gaze fell upon her battleclaws.

"What are those?" one of them questioned, obviously not approving of them. Ginger figured that now would be the time to attack, and she launched herself at the bars. The two eagles, badly startled by her response, jumped and backed up.

"Keep your talons off my battleclaws or I'll use 'em!" she snapped, not afraid to stand up to the two older, larger birds.

"Call in the commander," one said to the other. "He might want to take a look at this. I'll make sure she doesn't try anything fishy."

The eagle's partner flew off somewhere. The one that remained gave Ginger a glaring scowl.

"Who are you?" he asked, obviously not fooling around. "And where did you come from?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Ginger retorted.

The two birds were only inches away from each other, face to face, each trying to intimidate the other. Finally, the eagle sighed.

"Look," he said to her. "We're dealing with a serious threat on the line right now and we don't want any more trouble that what we already have. And for all we know, YOU could be part of it. So it's best to keep you in solitary confinement until we get ahold of a background check or something and you're approved to leave."

Ginger let out an outraged shree. How dare these birds keep her locked up in a cell! She had to get back to the Beaks!

"Tell me who you are and what I'm doing here! And let me out of this dump so I can get back to the Beaks!" Being locked away was beginning to do a number on her sanity, despite only being aware of her situation for a few minutes.

"Well," The Bald Eagle decided not to put up with this kind of behavior from a minor any longer. "If that's how you want to play it."

She expected the eagle to come racing at her with open wings in an attack. But instead, he turned tail and flew off. Ginger looked about her surroundings once more.

 _Perhaps I can escape while there's still time._ she thought, eyeing the metal bars on her cell. They weren't very tightly knit, so maybe she could squeeze through. She put a talon through one of the open spaces, just to make sure the cell didn't have any escape-proof mechanisms. When her talon proved safe, she put the rest of her foot out, then attempted to squeeze through the bars. She thought she would make it out, but just as she had gotten both feet through, she heard the loud wingbeats of three approaching birds, most likely the eagles making their return.

"Sprinkin' racdrops!" she rasped as she struggled to get back into the cell. The owl successfully squeezed herself in and attempted to look unsuspicious just as the three eagles reentered the facility. The third one was much larger and older than the two others, and he bore obvious signs of battle-wear, small scars all over his breast and abdomen. His dull, hazel eyes stared right into Ginger's scroomsaw, as though he were examining her in some way, and she felt that she would fall yet again into a yeep-like state. The old eagle let out a low growl from the back of his throat, then turned to his two.

"You two." The other two Bald Eagles straightened their posture the second he spoke. "Continue your patrol by the coast. I'll handle things here."

"Yes sir," they said simultaneously as they lifted off out of the prison. Ginger hadn't really noticed beforehand, but it was now that she realized that the way the eagles spoke sounded like her own. Like her, they lacked the British-Hoolian accent that the birds of the Owl Kingdoms possessed. She began to wonder about it, but her thoughts were interrupted when the old eagle leaned closer to her, his eyes still giving off that unnerving glare.

"I'm gonna tell you something," he told her. His voice was deep and hardened. "We aren't fond of uninvited visitors in our homeland, and we don't tolerate threats toward our soldiers. I suggest that you hand those over before I take them myself."

The old bird pointed down with a primary. Ginger followed the direction of the feather, and found that it lead to her battleclaws.

"You don't plan on getting rid of them..." Ginger was truly scared by this old eagle, but she continued put her foot down toward anything she disapproved of. "...Do you?"

"That depends," he continued. "What do you use them for?"

Ginger sighed, deciding that it would be best to explain her situation rather than fight back. Perhaps, it would most likely get her out of where she was at faster if she did.

"They're called battleclaws. Me and the rest of my Union use them as weapons."

"And how do they work?"

"You just kind of slip your foot into the talon pieces then clip them shut. At least, this model does. Some are made out of leather and you tie them on your legs."

"Hm..." The eagle seemed to believe her, but he still wore the grim look over his white-feathered face. "And what about the mask?"

"It's a means of protection. Against enemies on the battlefield, and such. And the spikes can also be used as-"

"Well, I'm gonna have to take them from you regardless of what they're all for," the eagle interrupted. "They'll probably have to be taken to security. If they're checked out and cleared, maybe you can have them back then."

Ginger was hesitant at first, but she eventually removed her helm and unfastened her battleclaws before handing them to the eagle through the gaps between the bars.

"Very well." The eagle sounded satisfied with Ginger's behavior. "It shouldn't take anymore than a few days for these to go in and out of inspection."

"Well, now that that's all cleared out, would you mind telling me why I was put in this place to begin with?"

"You're an outsider," the old bird explained. "And not only that, you tend to be aggressive. So we're not sure we can trust you yet."

"But I need to get back home, and as soon as possible," she protested. "If I can't "LEAVE" leave yet, can you at least let me out of this _cage_?"

The eagle's sternness seemed to soften a bit.

"Well, if you have nothing to hide, I suppose you won't mind asking a few questions."

Ginger shook her head no. Seeing her response, the old warbird grasped some sort of crank with the bright yellow talons on his starboard foot. Turning it, Ginger heard the bars creak, and they began to lift.

"I'm gonna bring you to my private quarters," he told her. "Don't try anything with me, you hear?"

Ginger nodded timidly, then followed the eagle out of the cage into another room. The next room was much bigger than the one she had been held in, and many other Bald Eagles were there, running and fluttering about making commotion, but obviously busy with important matters. Ginger had no idea what she had done wrong, or even where she was located, but she knew it wouldn't be long until she found out.

 _Just play along, Ginger._ she reminded herself. _The sooner I straighten everything out between me and these birds, the sooner I can return to the Owl Kingdoms._


	5. Chapter 3: A Nightmare Come True

The commander lead Ginger to one of the rooms, the door on which was labeled "Commander's Quarters." The eagle turned the handle on the door with his wing, pushed it open, then lead the owl inside. He shut and locked the door behind the both of them, Ginger keeping her eyes fixated on him the whole time, and he marched to a metal bar on the opposite side of the chamber, flapping lightly to perch himself before looking at the Pure One with his eerily faded eyes.

"Right then," he huffed. "Let's start off with who you are and where you came from."

"I...I'm Ginger Wingren," the owl began. "Barn Owl. Tyto Alba. And I'm a middle-ranking member of the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones."

"The what?"

"The Tytonic Union of Pure Ones. I don't suppose you've heard of us?"

There was an awkward silence between the two birds for a few brief moments. The elder broke the ice after what felt an hour to Ginger.

"Hm...Alright. And where does this 'Tytonic Union' make their dwelling?"

"Well..." Ginger thought for a moment. She decided, feeling crafty, to pivot around the question and turn it right back at him. It would be best to know where this odd eagle organization was located before giving out any information on the uncharted Owl Kingdoms to outsiders, as it was obvious she was not in the Owl Kingdoms at all. Otherwise, the eagles more likely would have heard of such a name.

"I'm not sure, really. I was never told our exact home location," she fibbed, hoping the eagle would buy it. "I don't even know where I am now. But I am good at pinpointing landmarks to remember little areas. Perhaps if you would tell me where we're at, I could give maybe give you a straighter answer."

The eagle sighed heavily, then moistened his eyes with his third eyelid before finally giving Ginger the answer to her question. And it was an answer that turned the owl's gizzard to stone.

"We are the American Feathered Force, a trained military squadron founded by myself. You are at our headquarters, where we send out and perform our operations. If you must know, it's located in Liberty County, Georgia, not far from the ocean."

The owl's eyes widened in horror. Never in her life had she dreamed of coming back to her homeland. Much less being carried there by winds. She shook her head in disbelief. It couldn't be real. And she would have told the eagle so, but as her head bent down from stress, she saw the embroidered carpet on the floor she stood on. It displayed a Bald Eagle, just like the one on the perch that had given her the news, its chest hidden by a blue and red-and-white striped shield. It held an olive branch of peace in its starboard-hand set of talons, and thirteen arrows of war in the port set. In its beak, it held a flowing golden ribbon, which read the words, "E PLURIBUS UNUM," which was Latin for "Out of many, one," the motto of the very country Ginger had hatched in.  
And furthermore, he stated they were in Georgia, the very state she had hatched in as well. And still yet, they were in Liberty, and on the coast, which was not at all far from Chatham. It was her worst nightmare made a reality. Ginger's breathing grew faster and heavier so quick, the eagle didn't realize it until it had grown shallower than a drying puddle, left in the direct sunlight after a light rain.

"Um...Are you al-"

Before the eagle could finish, Ginger's eyes rolled back into her head, and she topped over backward into a dead faint.

* * *

...

* * *

"I...what?"

Ginger felt herself lying on a cold, smooth floor. Too cold and smooth to be stone. She pulled herself upright, hyperventilating, not sure what had happened, or how she ended up like that. She remembered someone telling her she was in Georgia, particularly close to the place she'd been raised, though that was the last thing she remembered, then everything went into oblivion. It was then that she head a knock on the outside.

"Hello?" the female voice said? "Are you awake yet, sweetie?"

The voice sounded female, and had somewhat of a cooing ring to it, similar to what many of the St. Aggies pit guardians possessed. Ginger turned around to see there was a door behind her, and without the owl's consent, whoever it was entered voluntarily. It was another Bald Eagle, just like the one she'd seen in what she thought was but a vision.

"Who are you? Where am I? What's going-"

"Now, now, don't worry yourself anymore. According to your blood pressure, that's probably what brought you into the infirmary in the first place. Now, are we doing alright in here? No more fading out?"

"I..." Ginger was still shaken from the previous shock, though her breathing had begun to ease. "I had the most horrible daymare. I dreamt that I was back where I was born, and that I would be found out by my family, and-"

"Hold on a second," the eagle interrupted. Ginger noticed that she too spoke without a Hoolian accent, and as memories flooded through her mind and gizzard, her fears returned in a flash. "Where, may I ask, were you born?"

"Chatham, Georgia." Ginger let the words spill out of her beak without even processing them. "I was born there about a year or so back, and I dreamt that-"

"I'm afraid it was no dream." A familiar voice boomed through the small chamber. In stepped the older, hardened eagle. "You _are_ in the U.S.A, and you are in Georgia."

The Barn Owl began to breath heavily again, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"No...No, no, no, no, I can't be here. I need to get out before they find me and take me away!" She knelt before the male eagle, begging for him to let her leave.

"Calm down, you're getting yourself all worked up," he scolded. "Now sit back on the floor. Ms. Mattie and I will be outside."

The eagles exited the room, shutting the door behind them. The walls wee quite thin, so Ginger could hear their conversation fairly easily.

"So, is anything in particular the matter with her?" the old one questioned.

"Nothing major, Commander. Just slightly elevated blood pressure, and her right wing looks like it's getting over some sort of sprain." Ms. Mattie, the female eagle, sounded somewhat flustered.

"You think that could be how she ended up lost? At least, that's what we think she is..."

"You don't have to take my word for it, Commander, if you don't want...but I honestly think it wise to believe her. No Shredder could make it all the way out here with a hurt wing, much less with the rough storm she was caught in. Besides, they would know better than to fly almost all the way across the globe just to launch an attack on us. They come from inland, and from what I heard about her location, it looks to me more like she was trying to leave the state rather than reach it."

"I know...But those Shredders aren't getting any dumber. Sure, they aren't anywhere near as bright as your average soldier here, but they catch on by and by. You can never be too careful at times like these, especially when the rest of their nation is threatening us with war.

"True, true...But have you taken note her fluent English? Not many Ko-"

"There's such a thing as being bilingual, Mattie."

"I know, but..." She couldn't seem to think of a better argument. "Oh...J-just keep that in mind, alright?"

The Commander sighed again. "...Alright. But don't think this is gonna make me go easy on grilling. And should I find anything having to do with those barbarians in her background, I swear I'll take her by that skinny throat of hers and cleave off her head with my bear-"

"Scott, you wouldn't!"

The eagle was rarely called by his true name nowadays, so her response gave him a bit of a shock. Ginger listened more closely, wondering if the debate between the two of them had cleared up.

"You're right," Scott responded. "I shouldn't think like that."

"I-it's alright, sir, I didn't mean to-"

"You have no reason to be sorry. I...Just...Just leave this situation to me, okay? I promise you I won't do anything stupid."

"...I understand."

"You go about your duties. I'll take care of it."

"Yes, Commander."

The owl heard the sound of wingbeats fading into the distance, assuming Ms. Mattie had flown off somewhere. The old commander opened the door and poked his head inside.

"Alright. You can come out."

Ginger hesitantly began to approach the door. Still somewhat unnerved, she jumped when he began to speak again.

"But you're going to have to listen to everything I say, answer every question I ask, and do all I command of you. If you step out of line, the consequences will be great."

The Barn Owl barely nodded, then followed him back out. She entered an odd, brightly lit area alongside the eagle, which featured many other rooms similar to the one Ginger had been in.

"What is this place?"

"This is our infirmary, where we take in wounded or infected soldiers for treatment."

"Oh." She knew what an infirmary was. The Tytonic Union sported its own, as well did the Great Ga'Hoole Tree, but theirs certainly didn't look anything like what she was seeing here.

"Did..." she continued. "Did she say your name was 'Scott,' sir?"

"Yes. But she wasn't necessarily supposed to do that. Disrespect, that's what it is, calling a higher rank by name. You will call me Commander, and show some respect, like everyone else in my army is supposed to."

"Um...Where will I be roosting during my stay?"

"I'm taking you to my nest out in the woodlands. I'm not sure I trust you outside my supervision, and even if I did, most of my fleet is out of the battlefield as of late, so nest-sitters are scarce."

"How far away is-"

"I'm the one that's supposed to be asking the questions, not you. Now follow me."

He opened the door leading outside the infirmary, then lifted off the ground, still eyeing the owl behind him. Ginger followed quickly, not wanting to anger the old bird. It certainly seemed as though she was alone in a crowd, all odds against her in this place she used to call home.

 _Home..._

The haunting word echoed in her head like the voice of a scroom, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not get it out of her head. Her home was with the Tytonic Union, and with her fellow Pure Ones. She pushed out thoughts of her old family, and tried to replace them with memories of the Monarchs, her fellow trainees, the macaws, and others she had come to love as well as any family. But her mother and father quickly returned, and her oldest memories came back in place of the new, and the whole flight, she continued to tell herself that she was not home, that homes change. And she wondered, really, if families could change, the same way homes did.


	6. Chapter 4: Two Birds on an Island

"I'd keep an close eye on these clouds, Kludd," the cockatoo suggested as he gazed up at the towering cumulous in the distance. They were quickly climbing higher into the atmosphere, and the faint rumble of thunder was heard every so often. "It looks like there's another storm developing out toward the south."

"Right..." Kludd had been nothing but a gollymope ever since they had settled themselves on the small island, and the mention of gloomy weather on the way didn't help him much. Nigel was quite concerned for the owl's wellbeing, but he hadn't the slightest idea on how to lift his spirits.

"What do you say you and I work on some sort of shelter, like the others suggested? Just in case we're hit, you know."

"I suppose." Kludd began to scratch at the ground, half-heartedly trying to start a hole the could take refuge in. He didn't get very far before he stopped altogether, leaving nothing but a tiny depression in the dirt.

"How about I do some of the digging?" Nigel offered. Kludd barely nodded in response, and the cockatoo began to rip wildly at the earth.

"Now, what I think we should do is make a shallower hole, then craft a curved roof overhead for extra room. Thought we could use rocks as the main building material, and dirt as some sort of mortar. It's all about balance, you know. If the roof were made entirely out of rocks, they wouldn't stick with each other, and it would just collapse. If it were made entirely out of dirt, the rain water would simply wash it away. And just for good measure, I'll cover the hollow in a thinner layer of smaller stones, kind of like a waterproof coating so it doesn't become wet to the point of leaking. And since the hole is going to be so shallow, we won't have to dig quite as much, and we won't force the mice underground into hiding. Because, well, you know, we need them for food..."

"Hm..." Despite his despondency, he was somewhat impressed by the cockatoo's architectural intellect.

"There we go." The cockatoo finished his excavation, then hopped out of the pit.

"Um...How about you go fetch me some water? This stuff's kind of dry, so it'll probably need to be moistened."

"How do you suppose I do that?" Kludd answered coldly. "We don't have anything to carry it in. No buckets, no bowls, nothing."

"What about your helmet?" Nigel suggested. "It looks like it could probably hold a decent amount of liquid in it."

The young Tyto looked up at his bronze-mu alloy helm, which was adorned with a line of pure mu metal horns running from the top of his head to right in between his eyes. Kludd removed the helmet, sluggishly waddled over to the shore, then dipped the edge of the helm into the rippling, shallow ocean, letting the seawater seep slowly into it. Once gravity had done its job, he pulled it out of the waters, then paced back to the cockatoo, who was working the dirt into a pile for usage.

"Here's the stuff you wanted," he announced blankly. "Hope it's enough."

Nigel eyed the helmet full of seawater, silently trying to measure how much it contained.

"If it ends up not being enough, You could just get some more, I guess. But we probably won't need much more than this."

"Alright then..." Kludd yawned. He stood there motionlessly as his vision blurred, and he stared ahead in a daze. While the owl zoned out, Nigel carefully molded his rocks and soil into a curved roof, the space being no larger than a small tree hollow. For a final measure, he crawled inside to make sure there would be enough room for the both of them to take cover. To the cockatoo's satisfaction, it proved to be quite spacious.

"Well, that's taken care of," he declared. "What do you think, Kludd?"

He turned to the young owl, who was still simply staring out into the open.

"Kludd?" he called. " _Kluuuud?_ Earth to Kludd!"

"Huh!?" The Tyto snapped out of his trance-like state as Nigel waved a wing in front of his heart-shaped face. '"Oh...What's up, Nige'?"

"I just finished the shelter, in case you wanted to take a look."

"Guess I got nothing better to do."

Kludd slowly approached the small, rocky mound and peered inside it. It was so full of room, he figured that they would even have been able to hold a third individual in there with them if they had one.

"Huh!" he exclaimed. "It's almost like some sort of miniature cave!"

"I suppose it does! Say, maybe once we all get back to the Beaks, they could make me an architect of some so-"

Nigel's sentence was interrupted by the sound of thunder drawing nearer. Turning his gaze toward the sky, he saw that the storm clouds that they'd seen earlier were nearly upon them, and the cockatoo felt a single, sudden rain drop hit his beak.

"Better continue this conversation inside," he decided. "Wouldn't want to be caught in another one of these downpours."

The two birds crawled into the covered hole just as the rain began to spill over the small island. As he settled down into the dirt, Kludd looked skeptically up at the roof they were under.

"You sure this isn't going to collapse right over top of us?"

"Highly unlikely. That's why I made that pebble layer over the top of it; to increase runoff so it doesn't wash away the dirt."

"Ah, I see." Though Kludd didn't really comprehend much of what his cockatoo friend was explaining, he nodded wisely as though to convince him otherwise.

"So...What were you saying earlier about being some kind of...how shall I put it...'Tytonic architect'?"

"I never really would have thought that I had a knack for building of any sort. But if it's something I'm good at, I though I could maybe find some sort of decent role in your union involving architecture of some sort. Are you in need of any builders on your behalf?"

"I'm not really sure," Kludd replied. "The closest thing I can think of is smithing. I don't know if it'd be the same thing, but it's still building. You just build weapons, tools and buckets and stuff like that, not things like big erections. We only have one blacksmith, this old Masked Owl named Gwyndor, and he works nonstop around the moon's path, so there's no doubt he could use some help. But then again, I don't know whether you be good at that type of building."

"Hm..." Nigel looked away, not sure whether or not he would actually end up being able to assist the Tytonic Union in their conquests.

"But I'd be happy to ask Madame General or the High Tyto about any of that. I'm sure You could do something for us with that newfound building talent of yours."

"You think so?"

"I mean, we have a squadron for pretty much everything under the stars," the owl continued. "Battle-essentials, food preparation, spying, medicine, pretty much anything that contributes knowledge or power to our Tytonic society. I'm sure we would need a builder of sorts at some point. I don't think you have to worry about being a burden, Nigel. We need all the wings we can get, after all."

"I guess you'd be right about that, eh?" the cockatoo commented. He was happy to see Kludd become more talkative, especially concerning his pitiful state earlier. "But if I should become an architect, what about fighting? Surely you also need as many warriors as you can muster as well."

"Well, every Pure One has something they're especially good at. And not all of them enter the battlefield. Take our pit guardians in the Canyonlands, for example. They work with owlets and tend to orphaned eggs. And our talon-operated press writes numerous books out of the knowledge we've collected, all of which are sent directly to our library. Without them, the Tytonic Union wouldn't be half as great as it actually is, if not completely diminished due to poor learning and living conditions. It's these actions made behind the scenes that keep our Union firm upon its foundation. And take it from a budding warrior like myself; fighting is only part of what makes the Tytonic Union so strong. It is also the work many other owls who don't shed blood that keeps us standing."

Nigel gave the young Tyto a smile of approval.

"You are wise beyond your years, Kludd," he told him. "And both you and the other Pure Ones have my respect."

"Well, I wouldn't say that. If you want a bright mind, go see Uklah. She's the brains of our group, and I can assure you, I haven't hit the library half as much as she has."

Kludd churred lightly, both amused and ashamed of his lack of knowledge.

"Well, I guess too much knowledge can be a bad thing," Nigel assumed. "How often does she cram her head with school-stuffs rather than enjoy herself?"

"Are you kidding? She'd rather read up on a book about the process of preparing grilled vole then actually eating it while it's not stone cold on her plate!"

The two birds suddenly burst out laughing.

"Well, Kludd," Nigel stated. "It's good to see you returning to your old self again."

"Yeah. Wait...What was I upset about again?"

"You forgot?"

Nigel continued to cackle, but Kludd became quiet, feeling as though he shouldn't have let something that had been bugging him slip his mind so easily.

"No, seriously. What was I..."

His voice trailed off as it all quickly came back to him. Too quickly. How could he have forgotten that the only owl he'd ever really had close feelings for was missing, and perhaps dead? The smile quickly disappeared from his face as he returned to his former state, and the owl turned his face away from his company. Nigel realized what had happened, and immediately regretted bringing up his lightened mood.

"Look, Kludd," he said to him, deepest sympathy in his tone. "I understand that it can be hard to lose someone your close to."

"How?" he snapped back. "How could you understand?"

"Well, believe it or not, I can empathize. I've lost many things throughout my life. My looks, my fame, my dignity, even all of my feathers at one point. But it isn't right to just wallow in one's own sorrow for the rest of their lives because of one thing happening."

"What about love?"

"Oh. Well...I never really had anyone in my life I felt particularly-"

"Then you have no idea what I'm going through."

After giving the cockatoo a glare, he jerked his face away again.

"You and Ginger must be pretty close, huh?"

Kludd sighed heavily, shaking his head. It was nearly becoming too much for his gizzard to take in.

"It's been that was for as long as I can remember. I mean, when we first met, I...I looked at her and I could have sworn she came straight down from glamoura. My first thought was that she was too good for me, though, that I would never have a chance. But not long after she'd settled in, she came up to me, and she actually bothered to speak to me. Me of all owls, some awkward, stupid..."

He breathed deeply in the middle of his tale.

"But she actually liked me. I thought I was fooling myself, but...Well, overtime, she and I became more than just friends, more than commander and soldier. And whenever she left for a mission of some sort, I-I didn't show it much, but I was horrified that something would happen. That something would go awry and she would..."

He dared not say the word aloud.

"And now look what's happened. She's been blown off to Glaux-knows-where, you and I are pretty much stuck here until we get the word from the others, and even when and if we do get out of this place, I'm nothing without Ginger!"

The Tyto had begun to hyperventilate, more distraught than ever over the loss of what could have been so much more than a simple relationship. As he hid his face underneath his starboard wing, his shallow breaths turned to stifled sobs.

"I..." Nigel tried to say something reassuring, but he knew deep down that it would do more harm than good. He simply grumbled, shaking his head and inched away slightly. The cockatoo looked back outside. It was becoming dark, and it was still raining, though it had begun to lighten up. Giving Kludd one more sympathetic look, he turned away and fluffed out his feathers in preparation to roost. There would be no comforting this owl until he had been reunited with the general.


	7. Chapter 5: The Aerie

The young owl continued to follow the eagle over the heavily wooded land. As she scanned the area, still hoping she wouldn't suddenly happen upon her parents for any unknown reason, she caught sight of one tree that seemed to stand out from all the rest in the forest. It was a towering beech tree that stood high above all of the others below it, and it's leaves displayed bright shades of gold and scarlet. There, hidden within the autumnal foliage, was what appeared to be a nest among the thicker branches that extended a ways away from the trunk, but still remained far from the tree's extremities.

"Is that it up ahead?"

"Yes. It is. Now, prepare for a quick bolt up and prepare for a landing."

Ginger stayed close behind the Commander as he shot upward and headed straight for the nest. She did the same, and soon she was slowing her flight and extending her talons, which she then planted firmly on the nest floor. She marveled at the sight of Commander Scott's home, having never seen a nest like such in her entire life. It was out in the open, like the nests of many smaller birds, but it spread out across a large portion if the branches, and it was nearly the size of a bear.

"How...How did you build all of this?"

The old eagle turned toward her.

"Have you never seen an eagle's nest before?"

"No, I-I haven't. Sure, I've seen plenty of nests, but I never thought they could be built this big."

"That they can. Now, since we're all here, why don't I ask you a few more questions?"

Ginger shuddered, but continued to remind herself that diplomacy was currently her best option.

"And just so you know, we CAN prove whether or not you actually DO come from Chatham."

"How?" the owl asked, just to be sure he wasn't just saying so to scare her into talking.

"Simple. We can send out soldiers to ask locals of they know anything. And if they find-"

"Hold on!" Ginger interrupted, obviously shaken, and thoroughly convinced by his response. "Um...might I make a request?"

"Tell me what you want." His tone implied that he demanded to know immediately, and he wanted no sort of nonsense to be pulled.

"Well...I did live in Chatham, I can assure you, but there's a reason why I left. Family matters, that's what it was. Bad blood between me and my brother. If you send someone out, and if they find my old home successfully, I want them to ask about me in...sort of a roundabout way."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I want them to specifically ask if they lost two chicks; one newly fledged daughter and a fledging son named Felix, both of which just vanished without a trace. I don't want them to get my name, but my brother isn't really as much of a concern. If they answer yes to both of those, it's them, no doubt.

The eagle looked off in another direction, silently analyzing Ginger's request in search for some sort of trick. But no matter how he looked at it, He could find nothing suspicious. Plus, the request seemed somewhat reasonable, anyway. If Ginger had had any sort of harsh conflict with her family, it would be quite obvious as to why she left.

"Very well, then. I will see to it that I send messengers to Chatham to gain evidence supporting your claim."

"Oh, Thank you. Thank you, thank you so much." Ginger said as she groveled pathetically at his talons.

"Don't make a fool out of yourself now," he corrected, to which the owl hastily stood back to her feet.

"Y-yes, sir..."

"Now, before I leave to fetch some sort of dinner, there are still a few things I need to ask you."

The eagle fluttered over to the outer side of the nest and grabbed a pad of paper and pencil that had been sitting there.

"I would have done this earlier, but...Well, you passed out."

Ginger blushed so badly, the pink skin beneath her white face feathers showed right through.

"First things first. You said that your brother also went missing. Felix, his name was? Have you any idea what became of him?"

"That I do. He's safe and sound at the owlet academy back at my current living area. He was blown away from our old hollow in a storm, and, like myself, he was rescued and brought into the safety of our Union."

"M-hm...Yeah. And where might I ask is this 'owlet academy' you speak of? And what is the name of it?"

"Well..." Ginger knew he would never believe her if she told him it was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, along with all of the other Owl Kingdoms. Plus the fact that she wouldn't dare give him information on that regardless, so she decided to keep mum concerning location.

"I don't exactly know where it's located. I don't know where our Union is located for that matter. But I do know the name of the place. 'St. Aegolius Academy for Orphaned Owlets,' is what it's called. It's heavily affiliated with the Tytonic Union."

"And what about this 'Tytonic Union?' If you don't know the location, you could at least tell me a bit about what they do."

"Well, our ranks are mainly composed or owls. Tyto owls, to be precise, even though there had been quite a few exceptions as of late. Basically, our main goal is to eradicate anything impure or unowlish from our land and restore its peace. We also do minor things, too, like thin out crow mobs, restore fallen owlets to nests, stuff like that, you know."

"Well, I have a few questions on that as well," Commander Scott replied as he jotted down a summary of what Ginger was telling him on his notebook. "First off, what exactly do you mean by 'unowlish?'"

"You know, it basically means the same thing as 'inhumane,' but in regards to owls and not humans."

"And what types of things does the Tytnoic Union consider 'unowlish?'"

"Well, the blatantly obvious things, for the most part. Assault, murder, polygamy, adultery, you know, the really bad stuff. And we also push on eliminating certain behavioral tactics, too."

"Behavioral tactics? Like what?"

"Well, its still pretty obvious on the minor side, too. Hagsfiend worship-that's been taken care of for the most part, though-Forest gangs, rebellions, Northern tyrant loyalists, and there's been particularly strong emphasis put on the unnatural foulness of..." She whispered the next few words in his earslit.

"'Queer behavior,' if you know what I mean."

"Not really, I don't."

"It's like..." she stuttered, not wanting to dig too deep into such subject matter. "Some humans do it too, I hear. Owls...you know...liking other owls of the same gen-"

"Oh, oh, **THAT** ," the commander interrupted, realizing what she meant. "Yeah, we know what that is. You're definitely right about it being messed up, though."

"I guess we can at least agree on something, then."

"Oh, ho-KAY," he said with a bit of a laugh. "Yeah, but let's not talk about things like that for now..."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Alright, then, back to business. It sounds like this Tytonic Union of yours at least has half a brain."

"Yes, sir. We take pride in our purity."

"As long as they aren't driven by tyranny of any sort."

"Oh, no, Commander. We are far from it. We do try to eliminate such impure practices, but besides that, owls are allowed to do whatever they please as long as it's legal."

"Well, we'll look more into it if possible."

He had been writing down everything he'd heard up to that point, and he didn't look like stopping.

"Now, I'll need a little bit of personal information. What is your full name again?"

"Ginger Wingren." the owl answered with a nod.

"And what are your parents' full names?"

"Ethan and Nutmeg Wingren."

"Was there any sort of strife between your parents?"

"Not to my knowledge. They spent most of their time in the hollow with me and Felix, any way, so it would be hard to hide such things. My mother always told me stories about how she and my dad met, and how they became mates, and..." Her voice trailed off. Reminiscing the days of her owlethood in the situation she was in proved to be quite a blow to the gizzard.

"That's good. That's all I need on that." Hearing the old bird's voice and refocusing herself on the questions seemed to help her forget her troubles.

"Exactly how old are you?"

"Twelve."

"And what day of the year did you hatch?"

"April twenty-eighth. My brother came along a couple weeks after my sixth hatchday."

"Right, then. And what kind of tree did you and your family live in?"

"Spruce."

"How big is the tree?"

"I'm not sure, exactly, but it towered pretty high above a lot of the others in our area."

As the eagle continued to write out Ginger's description of her home and family, he couldn't help but notice how cooperative Ginger was being.

 _Birds her age these days are a bit more rebellious._ he told himself as he glanced briefly at the owl. _Can't really know for sure whether that's how she normally is or if she's just trying to get me to lower my guard._

"Is that all?" Ginger asked him as he finished his writing.

"Yes, I suppose that's all I need to know for now." The old bird stuck his pencil into the branches of his nest, then pushed it firmly in between two twigs with the pad of one of his bright yellow talons.

"Right, then. I'm off to hunt. My lest maid will see to it that you don't try to vamoose while I'm away."

He headed to the edge of the nest closest to the open sky, then turned his head back toward the tree.

"Silvia! Keep a close eye on this one. If she attempts any sort of escape, contact me immediately. We can't lose this one."

 _Who in hagsmire is Silvia?_

Before Ginger could open her beak to answer the question, Commander Scott flew off. leaving Ginger-and "Silvia," whoever she was-alone in the aerie. Ginger began to hear scratching noises coming from beneath the nest.

"Oh, dear, dear me!" she heard a female voice mutter. "That must be the owl under surveillance! Gotta move, gotta move!"

 _That must be Silvia. Hm...Sounds like she might his nest maid. Nest maids seem to have names like that._

But instead of a pink snake slithering through the down and sticks to the surface like she'd expected, a short, strange-looking bird clumsily scrambled her way into the nest before plopping herself onto her rear feathers. Hastily, she stood back to her feet.

"Oh, you must be the owl Mr. Scott was telling me about earlier. Well, we don't get company very often in our nest up here, so I suppose we could make the most of your stay, don't you think?"

Ginger remained blank. The bird's looks, combined with her somewhat squawky voice and the rate at which she spoke, was enough to give any bird a decent headache.

"Oh, well, don't get me wrong, we're going to do our best in getting you back to where you belong. You won't be here forever, dear. Oh, and goodness me! I never really introduced myself, did I? Well, my name is Silvia, but you can go ahead and call me Ms. Siv. What's yours, dear?"

"Um..." She was still trying to find her voice among her confusion.

"Oh, I can probably understand how you feel. You probably wouldn't expect to find a chicken anywhere near an eagle's nest, would you?"

"Oh..." Ginger silently cursed herself for being so stupid as to not know what she was. She knew what a chicken was, no doubt, as her mother had told her about them and had described to her what they looked like. But she'd never seen one in the flesh, and she certainly didn't expect one to look like this. Instead of having plain brown or white plumage, her feathers were all shining silver, each rimmed with black, and her comb and wattle were quite small.

"You look a bit dizzy, dear. Why don't you sit down for a bit?"

Ginger agreed, plopping herself onto the nest floor with just as much klutz as the nest maid. Silvia sat beside her noiseless for a few minutes before speaking again.

"Are you doing a bit better than before?"

"Yes, that I am. I was just a bit...you know...caught off guard."

"Well, you seem fine now."

"I have a question, though."

"What's that?"

"What's a chicken doing in an eagle's nest?"

"Oh, it's a long story."

"No, no, that's alright. I'd like to know," she persisted, actually interested in knowing.

"Well, I used to live on a small farm with a few other chickens. One day, a grey fox invaded the coop, wanting to nab one of us for a meal. I managed to escape through a small hole in the fence, and I ran like I'd never run before. I thought I was out of danger after a few minutes, so I stopped. t then, along came Scott, and believe it or not, he had the same plan for me as the fox. So he took me to his nest with every intention of chowing down on some drumsticks. But, by golly! He didn't expect me to beg for my life! So after a bit of that, he finally decided to let me live. And in turn for his mercy, I offered to become his nestmaid, so here I am."

"Wow. That sounds like quite a time you had," the owl responded, actually somewhat entertained by Silvia's tale.

"Oh, it was, dear, it was. Now, tell me a bit about yourself, if your up to it."

"Alright, then..."

The owl explained to her that she had once lived in the state they were in, and that she now lived in some far off land that few knew about. Silvia inquired on the location, but Ginger said that she didn't know herself, and even if she did, she had been given instructions to keep it secret to those on the outside. Ginger also tried to convince the nest maid of her situation, stating that she was actually in the process of returning from a mission in the Tropics, and that she never tried to return to her homeland in the first place, let alone cause any sort of harm.

"Speaking of that matter, I heard Commander say a few things, and I suspect that the area is under some sort of threat. Mind telling me what that is?"

"I'm glad you asked, dear. In fact, such thoughts may actually help prove your innocence."

"Thank the heavens. Fire away, if you please."

"Well, what we're dealing with here is perhaps one of the most dangerous situations we've had since last decade." The chicken's voice became hushed and serious. She sighed, readying herself to tell Ginger what she knew.

"They call themselves the Korean Shredders. All they do is plunder, capture and kill. Plunder, capture and kill all those who don't bow down to their leader, who they see as some sort of god, I suppose. But he's worse than they are, giving out all the commands to do such things."

Ginger shuddered at the mere thought of such an organization. Even the Guardians of Ga'Hoole didn't sound this barbaric.

"Sounds awfully savage. Where do they all come from?"

"Well, have you ever seen a world map?"

"I've seen maps in the Great Tytonic Library where I live. There are books called 'atlases' in the study section that show maps of places in the outside world."

"Ever see Korea on a map?"

"No. I've only bothered to look at the Americas at times."

"Well, I have a map. I can go get it, if you'd like."

"Certainly. If it isn't any trouble."

Silvia hopped up onto the edge of the nest.

"But don't you go anywhere! We WILL find you if you run off."

"That I can be sure of."

Ginger stood there as the black and silver chicken dragged out a rolled up piece of paper from in between two small branches just below the nest. She flung it up into the aerie, then climbed back in herself. To her relief, the owl had not moved an inch.

"Well, here it is." Saying this, she unfurled the giant scroll and revealed the printed image. Ginger hovered over it, seeing that it was indeed a map of the entire world. There were North and South America, there was the Pacific Ocean, and the Atlantic. But that was only the left half. Focusing her gaze onto the other side of the image, she saw a vast, unknown territory. Lands with such exotic names as China, Russia, Africa, Australia, Indonesia, and many, many more. Good Glaux, if she were to name each place the map showed, it would take her the entire rest of the afternoon!

 _Wow._ she marveled silently. _Who knew the world was just so...enormous._

"Well, we're right here, sweetie," Silvia said as she pointed to Georgia with a talon. Then, she waddled over to the Eastern Hemisphere.

"And this," Now, she directed Ginger's attention to a small peninsula jutting out from China into the East Sea, barely bigger than Florida. It was labeled "Korea" in bold letters, and it was divided into two sections, those being the North and South.

"You see the Northern section?"

"Yes."

"That's where the Shredders come from. North Korea is a Rogue Nation. They only care about their own victories, and they don't care who they hurt in the process. I honestly feel sorry for all of the sane citizens living over there. If they don't bow down and worship their dictators, they're put to death. What am I saying...They aren't citizens, they're slaves! Slaves to their landfill of a nation, where freedom is a forbidden fantasy!"

The chicken had begun to squawk in her pity-fueled rage, to which Ginger only sighed.

"So, what about the South part?"

"Well, I don't really know much about South Korea as a whole, but they're an ally to us, and they're a lot better off there than they are in the North. At least they don't live under some power-hungry dictator who kills them for the supposed 'offense' of wearing a pair of jeans..."

"Oh, man. Sounds like these guys mean really dangerous business."

"And they're not satisfied with just their land that way. That's what they want to do us, too."

"Are we talking both bird AND humankind?"

"Exactly."

Ginger shuddered at such a thought. A one world order, where nobody was free to do a single thing they pleased? Sure, there were laws that had to be obeyed in all places, most of which were logical, but the image of slavery and oppression spread worldwide by these tyrants? It wasn't right at all.

"I can assure you, I am NOT a member of these Shredders. They sound beyond crazy."

"I believe you, dear. But until the A.F.F. gets some solid evidence to prove it, I think you're stuck here with us."

Ginger sighed. "Alright, but do you think they could at least speed up the process a bit if they can? I'm willing to bet that most of my friends think I'm gone forever."

It was then that she stopped. She began to think about the owls and macaws she'd traveled with. She wondered if they were looking for her, or if they had given up hope on finding her. She had been completely separated from them in the storm, leaving behind nothing with which they could use to track her location. She pictured them each in her head; the macaws, Unk, Vaygar, Uklah, Phillip and...She saved the best for last, finding it difficult to imagine what Kludd was going through with her having been blown away from them.

 _Poor Kludd._ she said to herself. _He must be devastated._

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Silvia begin to squawk.

"Oh, looks like he's back!" she clucked excitedly. "We're gonna have ourselves a seafood feast tonight!"

The Barn Owl peered over the nest to see Commander Scott soaring towards the nest, some sort of large prey in his bright yellow talons. He drew near, and landed gracefully on the edge of the nest with one foot. He used the other to plop whatever was in his grasp on the nest floor. Ginger looked down at what he'd brought, then scrunched up her beak. There at her talons was a bloodied, red and green fish of some sort, and even though it had been freshly killed, it smelled as though it had been rotting for several days.

"Lucky catch, this one," the eagle remarked. "It came right up toward the surface to snatch a moth, so I didn't have to put much effort into stalking and chasing and whatnot. Now, I'll cut off the end area for young Ginger, then we can go ahead and eat our fill."

Without further hesitation, he sliced about a third of the fish of from the tail end, then tossed it at their guest. Ginger resisted the urge to yarp. Its repugnant smell was bad enough to erase her appetite on its own, but now she was expected to eat it!? The owl decided she would get rid of her share, so, after considering her options and their possible results, she stripped pieces off of the fish, one by one, and dropped them onto the ground, in hopes that a passing raccoon would sniff them out and more efficiently dispose of them before they began to stink any worse. It was the best way to claim that she'd eaten her meal, should she be questioned, as the bone would serve as evidence that the fish had been consumed. Just for good measure, the cautious owl plopped the two remaining pieces of fish right down into the back of her throat, swallowing them quickly without having to taste the awful substance.

 _Just in case the old bird decides to smell my breath._ she warned herself. _You can never be too prepared for a confronting question._

She remembered a time where she'd snuck a few too many fat, sweet maggots from the family nest as a fledgling, then when her father caught a wiff of her breath, he confronted her about it with solid evidence, to which she fessed up. She figured it could work in terms with what she WAS supposed to eat, as well.

 _I guess it might be a good thing I remember so much about my old home. It gives me some sprinking good ideas on how to handle things in desperate situations._

The owl looked back up. The eagle and his nest maid were still feasting on the smelly kill, chatting about their days. The last rays of dusk were disappearing beneath the horizon in a soft array of lavenders and golds, so, even though she was a night bird, she decided to retire for the evening. Besides, she'd been sleeping through the dark hours ever since she'd made it to the Amazon, so she wasn't particularly bothered. She placed the barren fish bone next to her, then fluffed her feathers and settled down into the nest. She shut her eyes, but sleep seemed near impossible. The combination of fear, anxiety, and the present stench of fish suppressed Ginger's will to rest, so she simply sat there motionless for perhaps an hour, until the stars shone brightly overhead, and the two birds went to roost themselves.

 _They think I'm a Shredder, she reminded herself, being careful not to forget why she'd been captured and restrained in the first place. Me? One of those monsters? That's ridiculous! Never in a thousand years! And I've told them so! Fools! Mooncalves! WETPOOPERS!_

She paused, not even realizing the strength of the insults that exploded inside her head until a few moments after thinking them.

 _No,_ she corrected herself. _They're not fools. They're just trying to protect this place. It seems as though these Korean hostiles are putting enough pressure on them, anyway. They're the foolish wetpoopers. Trying to mess around with us._

She thought about the matter for just a little while longer.

 _If only there were something I could do to help them._

But she knew that there was probably nothing she could do. And even if there was, the chances of Commander Scott allowing her to do so were slimmer than a stick bug. Deciding that worrying about such things would only add to her anxiety, so she sighed deeply, then continued to rest. Though sleep did not fall upon her until the newing crescent moon was at its highest, and the stars above were at their most brilliant.


	8. Chapter 6: Unwanted Visitors

Ginger awoke to the sensation of light beating down onto her closed eyelids. Turning her face away from the sky, she opened her eyes slowly, adjusting them to the brightness of day, then stood to her talons and meticulously scanned her treetop surroundings. Clearly, she'd overslept, something she hadn't done in a very long time. The sun, radiant as ever in the cloudless sky, shone down on the world from above, sharing its nourishing light with everything and everyone that inhabited it. Ginger scowled.

 _At least it's just light, and not heat._ she reassured herself. It was, of course, autumn, so even on a sunny day, the temperature would remain fairly cool.

 _Now, where in the name of Glaux are Scott and Silvia?_

The eagle and his nest maid were not there in the aerie along side her. She assumed that the old commander had gone off hunting again, but she wasn't sure about Silvia. She was, of course, a chicken, and her wings were too short to carry her through the air, and she doubted that she had gone riding on the eagle's back. Fortunately, she didn't really mind being alone much.

 _I could use the space, anyway._ she thought. _I just hope that he doesn't bring back any more of that awful fish._

As she sat there by herself, she gazed at the wide open area surrounding her, high above the tops of the surrounding trees. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle breeze rustling through the red foliage around her. She had a mind to fly off and escape while she was able to, and perhaps to go looking for her comrades. But she remembered what Commander Scott told her would happen should she dare try. What if it was a test? What if one of them was hiding among the branches somewhere, watching her, waiting for her to slip up? She froze, and she called out just in case it was so.

"Is anybody there?"

No answer. The winds began to die, and an eerie silence settled among the surrounding landscape.

"Commander? Silvia?"

This time, she heard the familiar sound of muttering and rustling leaves underneath the nest, and she peered over the edge to see Ms. Siv hastily climbing her way towards the aerie from below. When the fowl had finally made her way in, she stood and faced the owl. Ginger could tell by the looked on her face that she was quite concerned.

"What? What is it? What's going on?" she said in a fluster. "Ginger, is everything alright?"

"Well, now it is," she replied. "It was just a bit too...quiet."

"But what's the matter with it being quiet, dear?"

"When it gets too quiet," Ginger explained with a sigh. "It just...It feels like I'm being...you know..."

"Watched?"

Ginger gave the chicken an intent look. It seemed as though Silvia had simply read her thoughts.

"Exactly."

"No worries, dear. It's just you and me."

Despite Silvia's comforting words, Ginger's gizzuition was saying otherwise. It twisted and turned in a nervous wreck, a clear indicator to any owl that something was amiss.

 _Never doubt your gizzard._ Ginger reminded herself.

"Erm, if you don't mind, Ms. Siv," Ginger inquired. "But would you mind if I just flew about the branches for a bit. I just want a look around, and my wings need a stretch."

The black and silver bird seemed to ponder the matter for a moment, then gave her the answer she'd been hoping to hear.

"Alright, dear, but don't you go flying off. Stay within close proximity of the tree."

"That I will. Promise!"

Hastily, Ginger took to the air and made her way towards the apex of the tree in a soaring spiral. The rush of air seemed to sooth her troubled senses a bit, but she was still determined to get a better look at the aerial vicinity.

 _In air as open as this_ , she reasoned. _The chances of me spotting any potential harm are pretty high._

As she settled lightly upon the twig of a branch jutting out from the top of the scarlet cloak of leaves, she swiveled her head in all directions, keeping a sharp eye out for anything remotely suspicious. To the north, there were nothing but smaller trees, red and gold, extending as far as the horizon. The east beheld the edge of the forest, and a flat area of grass separated the woodland from the faint silhouettes of buildings in the distance. Ginger turned her gaze upon the south. Same as the north; trees stretching out as far as the eye could see. Then the west. Trees. Same old thing. And no sign of life but a few dark silhouettes just above the horizon. Ginger presumed that it was a flock of geese or swans heading south for the winter. But as they drew steadily nearer, Ginger began to notice more.

"Wait a minute," she whispered as the figures grew more intelligible. "Those aren't geese."

The shape the black figures took on was much closer to that of birds of prey. They were too small to be eagles, so she knew it wasn't Commander Scott returning with some of his troops. Instead, they appeared to be a mixed group of hawks and falcons, in numbers of about eight or nine, flying in an organized diamond pattern. They all appeared to be carrying something on their backs. The lead bird, presumably a kite, stopped in his tracks, its followers doing the same, and they all reached onto their backs, pulling something out of them, before continuing their way towards the tree. Ginger squinted and fixated her sharp gaze onto the objects. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be metal blades, the garish light of day reflecting off of them. They looked a bit like swords, but they were long and narrow, which made them appear even more sharp. And they looked like they were heading straight for the nest. With her acute earslits, Ginger overheard one of them speak.

"Now, destroy whatever you can, but leave the eagle." he ordered in some sort of thick, exotic accent. "He is mine!"

Ginger's gizzard jumped. Surely, this was what it had been anticipating. Then came a horrible realization.

 _Are these the Shredders Ms. Siv talked about?_

Deciding there was no time to spare, the young owl hopped off of her branch and rushed downward to alert Silvia of the oncoming hostiles.

"Ms. Siv, do you happen to know anything about this group of hawks and falcons coming our way? They look like they mean business. Bad business!"

The fowl jerked her head up the moment Ginger finished speaking. She let out a terrified squawk, then scurried into a small hollow hidden by the nest below.

"Go! Fly! Save yourself!" she warned as she squeezed her large body inside the opening. Ginger tilted her head. She could tell by the growing sound of wingbeats that they were almost upon the aerie. She was ready to obey, but her gizzard gave another twang. And she felt ashamed for even considering escape. Should she flee, there would surely be hagsmire to pay.

 _They'll destroy everything! They could burn the nest. They could kill Ms. Siv!_

Ginger ignored the nestmaid's warning. She wouldn't fly off and leave the place to be destroyed. No. She would instead put her acquired skills to work. She would fight back.

 _Battleclaws or no battleclaws, I'm defending this tree!_

Ginger spread her wings again and shot straight upward, slamming smack into one of the hawks with lightning speed. She heard a cracking sound, then did a summersault through the air and landed gracefully on one of the branches the aerie was built upon. Her victim fell to the forest floor below, spine broken by the impact, and a look of horror still frozen on his face.

"Not on my watch," she taunted.

"What's this?" the leader, who was indeed a Black Kite, snapped back. "A child?"

"An angry one, might I add. And I suggest you and your cronies better skedaddle, unless you all want a taste of Pure One wrath."

"Fool! You are not pure, you are less than dirt. And I'll be happy doing you in!"

"Wanna bet?"

The kite's piercing red-orange glare stared directly into Ginger's, who wore a look just as fierce.

"Stand back, soldiers," the kite commanded. "I want this one to myself, as well."

That being said, he lunged at the owl, talons extended, only to miss by a feather as the enemy dodged with a swift flip. He was met with a solid thwack from his opponents claws on his tail a moment later. Examining his tail feathers as he flew on, it was revealed to him that some had been cleaved off in the attack, and a small wound in his flesh released a small trickle of blood flowing behind him. His rage continued to build as he performed an unsteady U-turn and headed back toward the owl. He drew his talons once again, but this time, Ginger surprised him by interlocking them with her own, then, after another impressive backflip, sent him hurdling toward the trees below. He barely managed to avoid crashing, then turned to his soldiers.

"Forget what I said!" he ordered, his eyes seeming to emit a haggish light. "Slaughter that beast!"

The small army did as told, and they each pointed their twin swords at the owl. It was, however, of no use, as this seemingly young owl seemed to posses tenfold the amount of battle prowess. She seemed to glide right past their blade attacks effortlessly, and her swift movements paired with her surprise stab attacks made her able to take on the whole lot of them at that one time. Much to his dismay and horror, the kite watched as his highly trained band of elites fell to the talons of this one, unarmed youth. His birds were losing both blood and energy, and the kite decided that it was necessary to call for retreat.

"Fall back! Fall back!" he screeched. As his troops fled, he turned back toward the owl.

"This is not the last you will see from us, _nyeon_! Next we meet, you will regret ever emerging from your egg!"

"Are you always such a stuck-up pile of racdrops or is today a special occasion?"

In a frustrated rage, he hastily followed after his departing band of hostiles, blood still streaming out of his hindquarters. Ginger landed back in the nest, readying to make sure Ms. Siv hadn't suffered any harm. To her surprise, she saw her sitting out in the middle of the nest, eyes wide. She had apparently witnessed at least some of what had just occurred.

"I...wha-...you just..." the nestmaid stuttered in her state of shock. "How on earth!?"

"I've had a lot of training with the Pure Ones," Ginger explained coolly. "Guess it's a good thing I can put it to good use."

"Oh, oh boy, oh, this is incredible. W-word of this needs to get right to the Commander!"

"I'm with you on that. Because then, he'll probably let me go. By the way, those didn't happen to be a band of those 'Shredders' you told me about yesterday, were they?"

"That they were. And you just took on their leader!"

"THAT was the head of their entire organization!?"

 _Hm. I expected a leader of such an organization to be a bit more of a challenge. I suppose that's a good thing, however._

"It was, it was! Dictator Jugembulam, that's his name. He often heads out with a handful of his troops from their secret headquarters and raid the soldier's aeries. Whatever they can't salvage, they burn. Those they can't imprison they destroy on the spot! Oh, I already told you all of this! Why am I saying it again!?"

"Don't get yourself all worked up, Ms. Siv," Ginger pleaded. "I'm sure that they won't be coming back too soon if they know I'm here."

"I wouldn't say that. Once they've been somewhere once, they're bound to come back if it's still intact. And the second time they come, there's way more, too!"

"Like, some sort of revenge tactic?"

"Absolutely. Oh, I'll need to contact him about all of this! Oh! OHHH!"

She scrambled back out of the nest again and back into her private quarters below. She was holding some sort of boxy, handheld radio-like device when she came back out, and after pressing a few buttons and knobs, she screamed into the speaker.

"Scott, Scott! Come in, come in quickly! You're never going to believe what just happened back here!"

Ginger watched intently as Ms. Siv explained the whole situation. She could only hear soft muffles of the eagle's voice from over the phone, and was unable to comprehend a single word of his among al the loud fuss Ms. Siv was making. As she sat down in the middle of the nest, she silently hoped that he wouldn't be mad at her for any reason for attacking. And she hoped even more that he would believe what he was being told.


	9. Chapter 7: Rays of Hope and Sorrow

Commander Scott came back much sooner than expected, and he didn't come alone, either. He was followed by half a dozen of his best troops, all of them sporting some sort of heavy weapons. They were large, black, and made up of all sorts of tubes and gadgets that made them look a thousand times more complicated than any set of battleclaws. Ginger had never seen anything like them before, but she figured by their looks that they were highly effective, as well as very dangerous, so she kept her distance from the six other birds as best she could, even though they were all in the nest with them.

"I never thought I'd see the day that no good flying rat would have the guts to raid some of our personal turf," the eagle stated solemnly. "But now that he has, we have no choice but to hunt him down."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Silvia protested mildly. She had no interest in the concept of war, despite living with someone who had devoted his life toward such activity.

"It's not just wise. It's mandatory."

"Excuse me, young owl. Ginger, you said it was?" one of the armed troopers inquired as he stepped up to the young refugee.

"Yes, sir," she answered, wondering what it was he wanted of her.

"You wouldn't mind me just taking a swab to your claws, would you? If you head-on attacked Dictator Jugembulam, it's likely he shed some blood, so we just want to collect whatever biological evidence we can find and send it to the forensics lab for DNA testing."

Ginger hadn't the foggiest idea what any of that meant, but she nodded anyway, and watched as the eagle rubbed her black claws with the cotton-tipped probe. The white cotton on the end of it was pale red by the time he'd finished, and he had only done two of the claws on her left foot.

"Wow. That's blood, alright," he marveled as he stuck the swab into a small, transparent bag. "Well, we're going to take this in for analysis so we can prove that it indeed was the wanted kite. We'll alert you all as soon as the results come in."

"And how long will it take to run the tests?" the Commander questioned.

"We should be able to get the news to you by early tomorrow. Now, I have a question, Commander, sir. Since this is the first time something like this has actually happened, are there any precautions you would like us to take in case the Shredders decide to strike somewhere else?"

"Leave that business to me. It's about time we returned to our posts, anyway."

"Yes, sir. Alright! You heard the bird, move out! Back to duty! Move, move, move!"

Before the owl even realized it, all of the eagles had completely disappeared from the aerie. Including Scott. It was just her and Ms. Siv once more.

"So," Ginger started as she turned toward the nestmaid. "What exactly are they supposed to be doing with the blood I got on my talons?"

"They're sending it to the lab for testing," she explained. "I'm not going to explain how it works, because I don't frankly know myself. But what it does is it tells you where the blood came from, and to whom exactly it belongs."

"I never knew something like that was possible."

"Oh, it is, dear. It's been possible ever since the '80s."

"How accurate are the tests?"

"The chances of something going wrong are very small. They scan the DNA. And everyone's DNA is entirely different. It makes you...YOU. And DNA never lies."

"Uh, huh..."

Ginger sat silently for a few minutes.

"Hey," she finally said after what seemed like an eternity to Silvia. "Do you think that if everything goes right with the tests, and they do prove that I tried to take down...Juggbulam...whatever his name was...Do you think Commander will let me off the hook?"

Now it was the nestmaid's turn to be silent.

"I...I can't say for sure, dear."

Ginger lowered her head in despair.

 _I'm never going to get out of this place._

"But I don't see why not. Don't fret about it, dear. If he doesn't budge, even after this whole mess is over, I'll see if I can reason with him. Does that sound alright to you?"

The young general nodded indifferently. She'd already lost most hope of returning to the Owl Kingdoms. And even if they did let her go, what were the odds of her being able to reach the Beaks without the aid of land, and perhaps other birds?

"Why is he like that?"

"What do you mean, dear?"

"That's just it."

The fowl cocked her head in confusion.

"Don't take this personally, Ms. Siv, but...Is there any particular reason he's just so...Well, don't you find that he can be a bit...you know..."

"Nasty?" She took the word right from the Barn Owl's beak. Shocked that she wasn't even offended by the remark, the young captive nodded once more.

"Well, I happen to know. He explained the whole thing to me just a few days after I became nestmaid."

"You mean to tell me that he wasn't always all mean and hardened like he is now?"

The black and silver bird's small, soft yellow eyes portrayed a mix of many different emotions. Guilt, sympathy, and just a small hint of relief were a few of the things Ginger saw in them.

"He told me not to tell anyone about what happened, but..." She looked up at the owl, who, by the look of her slowly widening eyes, was obviously eager to know whatever it was she was readying to say.

"I...suppose I can make an exception just this once. You won't tell, will you?"

"I swear upon my gizzard," Ginger responded as she drew an invisible cross over her gizzard with a flight feather.

"Alright, then. Let me tell you...Scott used to have a family of his own, you know."

"He did?"

There wasn't a trace of there ever being a large family in the aerie. No keepsakes, no eggshells, nothing. Due to the emptiness of the nest, she had assumed that Scott was a bachelor unto this point.

"Oh, yes, he did. And though I never met them, I have reason to believe that they were absolutely wonderful. His mate's name was Skye, he says. He tells me that she was the best in the world at hunting, and she always came up with exciting adventure stories for him and their daughter at night."

"He had a kid, too?"

"Oh, yes, indeed. Bethany, I think that's what he said her name was. It was something pertaining to that. He went on and on telling me just how well-behaved she was. Never ate a nest bug, never tried to jump from the nest, and not a single untrue word ever escaped her beak, he said."

Ginger never would have imagined that someone like the old Commander had once been a family bird.

"But where did they go?"

"I was afraid you would ask that."

Ginger glanced about the nest, trying to think of something to say in order to break the silence.

"So..." She finally said, anticipating the worst. "What happened?"

There was yet another long pause before Ms. Siv answered her question.

"The Shredders."

To Ginger, the response was no less than a blow to the gut.

"W-What..." she stammered. "What did they do?"

"That one fateful night, Scott's whole world came crumbling down around him. Jugembulam and three of his elites raided the nest while they were all asleep and caught them all off guard. Scott tried to fight them off as best he could, Skye doing the same at his side, but they weren't any match for them while unarmed, and the last thing he remembered before he blacked out was hearing the screams of horror coming from the nest. Eventually, he was found and patched up by some of his patrollers who were passing by. It's a shame they hadn't been around earlier. Otherwise, that whole ordeal might never have taken place. They burned the nest too. Branches, memoirs and all. This here is an entirely different one from the original. And Scott built the whole thing without any aid."

"What happened to his family?"

"No bodies were ever found, so they couldn't have been burned in the nest. But we no nothing else, and the case of finding them has grown stone cold since."

Ginger shook her head lightly, trying to take it all in. This had turned out to be a much more serious matter than she had previously thought.

"That's...insane." She almost breathed the remark.

"He's pretty much lost all hope of finding them at this point. It would be a downright miracle if he ever found them, dead or alive."

"I would think."

From then, there was very little for either bird to say, so they each kept to themselves until dusk, which was when Commander Scott returned from his post for the night. In his talons, he carried a large muskrat for the evening meal.

"Someone told me while I was in my office this afternoon that owls tend to prefer red meat over fish," he stated as he tossed a large chunk of it in front of Ginger's talons. "I hope this will suffice."

Ginger looked down at the hunk of muskrat before her, wondering what exactly compelled him to hunt it. Did it have anything to do with her attacking the Shredders earlier? She liked the idea of him having developed some newfound respect for her, but she decided that something like such was too good to be true, so she dipped her head humbly, then began ripping away at her given meal.

 _"Mph. Nmph, rmph._ "

She uttered unintelligible noises while feasting on the muskrat, in hopes to imply that she was enjoying it. She'd never had muskrat before, and it was certainly different from rabbit or vole, though palatable. It had a rough texture, and an ever so slight fishy taste embedded within the savory sensation.

"So, they will have the DNA tests out by tomorrow?" She overheard Ms. Siv ask the eagle from the other side of the nest.

"They should," he responded. "I also have word that they finally cleared those things Ginger was wearing when she got here."

"What was she wearing?"

"Battle attire. A spiky looking mask and foot weapons. We've never seen anything like them before, so I had them taken in to check for anything particularly dangerous."

"And, the results?"

"Nothing alarming. No poison, no nuclear substances, nothing like that. Just metal and leather, that's all. They had them polished, too. Don't know why they bothered with that, though. Anyway, she should have them back about the same time the tests come in."

"Does this mean that, if the DNA tests match up with Juge-"

"Don't say it," he said curtly. Ginger figured that if just hearing Jugembulam's name was enough to upset him, he really must hate the kite. It was understandable, though, seeing that he likely kidnapped, and possibly murdered his family.

"Well, if it does turn out to be...him...Does that mean she's free to go?"

The old bird paused, then rose from eating. He looked at Ginger, who pretended she wasn't listening. He glanced at her talons. The talons that had supposedly smitten the one responsible for his misery. If it was so, he figured that, in a way, she had sort of avenged him. And it would certainly prove that she was against the Shredders.

"Why, yes," he answered, a slight grin on his face. "It does." And he resumed eating.

Ginger could scarcely believe her earslits. Much less contain her excitement.

Perhaps, she said to herself as she finished off her muskrat. It wasn't too good to be true.

From there, she began to plan out her next course of action. Upon being released, she decided she would retrace her way back to the Amazon through the Central American bridge that connected the two continents, perhaps even meet back up with the Red Clan for additional aid, make a pit stop at the small, grassy island the group had encountered on their way there, then make her way back to the Owl Kingdoms from that point.

 _As long as everything goes alright,_ she reassured herself as she settled down to roost. _I should be able to make it back home in one piece._

She looked up at the skies above. The horizon was still painted light streaks of pink and violet, but most of the heavens had already turned deep black, a few stars shining through the vast plain of darkness. Commander and Ms. Siv had also begun to turn in, so she decided she would do the same. And there she lay, almost too excited about tomorrow to sleep.


	10. Chapter 8: Dire, Dreadful Discoveries

"Alright, Maxwell, give me the time."

"2001, Commander, sir."

"What's the status on the Atlantic Border?"

"Unchanged. Everything's secure. All patrollers still on duty. No suspicious activity witnessed."

The old Commander and one of his lieutenants walked briskly down the dark isle leading to his office as they spoke. He saved his most important question for last, immediately upon reaching the door.

"Have the DNA tests from yesterday evening come in yet?"

"I met up with Professor Hark about an hour ago and he told me everything. The DNA comparison was finalized at about 1800."

"And the results?"

"It was a match. That was Jugembulam's blood on the owl's talons."

"So it is true. She's one of us, after all."

Scott didn't show it, but he was very glad to hear that Ginger was an enemy of the Shredders as much as they were.

"And, what about the spruce tree? Any word from her supposed parents yet?"

"I got word from lieutenants Sam and David last night at approximately 2140. They found a tree matching Ms. Ginger's description, but it was vacant when they arrived. They reported a nest being in there, one lined with plenty of down feathers, might I add. But no owls. They've been staying in the area to see if anyone decides to show up so they can get on with the questioning."

The old Commander nodded.

"Oh! And one more thing!"

Maxwell handed the commander a black box, large enough for an eaglet to fit inside.

"What's this?"

"The mask and claws. I didn't know if you would want to give them back to that owl, but-"

"No, no, she can have them back," Scott said while taking the box from his wings. "Not until I get back to my nest later though."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. I've got my own business to attend to, so you head back out and resume your guard duty. Alert me if you get any word of the owls returning to their hollow."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant responded as he dashed back down the hall and toward the main exit. Once he was out of sight, Commander Scott unlocked the door to his office and fluttered to the perch in front of his desk, placing the box containing the mask and battleclaws inside one of its drawers. After they had been hidden away, he began to sort out some of the disorganized paper documents covering the majority of his desk. An hour or so passed, and by the time he was about finished getting everything reorganized, he heard one of his troops call him from outside.

"Permission to enter, Commander! It's urgent!"

"Who is it?"

"David Comess!"

"You're back? Maxwell told me you were still in Chatham about an hour ago. I assume that now you've returned, you've found something worth my time."

"Yes, sir! We've found one of the Barn Owls matching the description you gave us!"

Upon hearing the news, the eagle sprang from his perch and was at the door within three seconds flat. He opened it, and there stood his lieutenant standing beside what looked like a very washed up owl.

"Oh, thank the heavens I came across you," he gasped as he took the eagle by the wing and shook it humbly. He was nearly on the verge of collapsing. "I've been trying to find help for two days!"

"Are you Mr. Ethan Wingren?" Scott questioned, taking note the name Ginger gave him.

"Yes, yes I am. And I'm here to file two Missing Bird Reports!"

"Missing Bird reports?"

"My wife and daughter. They've vanished!"

"You mean Nutmeg and...wait...Did you just say daughter?"

"Yes, yes!" he wailed plaintively, tears forming in the corners of his rusty brown eyes. "I went out to hunt just a couple days ago, and Nutmeg stayed in the nest with little Emily. I was only gone for about half an hour, but when I got back, they were both gone!"

 _Emily? That's not among the names she gave me..._

"Have you any idea where they might have went?" the eagle questioned.

"No note, no blood, nothing. But I suspect foul play, nonetheless. Nutmeg and I have been married for years, and there's no way she would go off somewhere without telling me, much less with our chick!"

"This Emily. Is she a new child of yours?"

"Fairly new. She just turned three about a month ago...Say, how do you know all of our names right off the bat?"

"We have ways of knowing. It's important to gather intel regarding the names of birds in the area," he responded, being careful not to mention Ginger's name, as she had requested. "I know you said there was no blood at the scene, but is there anything that supports your thought that something suspicious occurred during your absence?"

"I did find this."

The Barn Owl held up a blackish-brown feather, presumably a covert from a wing, in his talons for Scott to see. It immediately set off numerous alarms in the eagle's head, and his eyes widened.

"I don't know who or what kind of bird it belongs to, but it can't be a crow. Not dark or sleek enough. Maybe it-"

"Give me that," the eagle ordered as he snatched the feather from his claws. "David, take this to Professor Hark. I want him to run another DNA analysis."

"Do you think it could be...him?"

"I'm almost certain." He handed the feather to him. "Go. Now. No time to waste!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" With a salute, his lieutenant left the office hastily, leaving Ethan there with him.

"Who's 'him?'" Ethan asked shakily, afraid to find out what kind of monster could have possibly made away his family.

"It's best you don't know. Not yet, that is," Scott responded. "In the meantime, you're going to have to stay here in case we need you to tell us anything else. I'll send out a tracking squadron and see if we can locate your family's whereabouts."

"Will you be able to find them?"

"I promise you that we will do everything within our power to do so."

The distress in the Barn Owl's eyes was eased by a small glimmer of hope.

"Ms. Mattie! Report to Main Office immediately!" He called to the nurse through the speaker, to which she came running.

"Yes, sir?"

"This is Mr. Ethan Wingren. Supposedly, the Shredders took his family. Take him to the interrogation room and ease him up a bit, if you can. Later, we're going to see if he knows anything else related to our case."

"Yes, sir," she nodded as she took Ethan by the wing.

"Come with me, Mr. Wingren. It's going to be alright."

Though he heavily doubted it would be so, the owl nodded and followed her lead. The Commander shut the door and tore at the faded white feathers on his head.

"Jugemulam, you steaming son of a..." He hissed the swear through an angrily clenched beak. "I swear if it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure you pay for all the lives you took with your own! You're gonna burn for all of it! YOU'RE GONNA BURN!"

* * *

...

* * *

" _Gyeong_ ,"a harrier inquired his higher up with a humble tip of the head. "Are you not afraid that we may be sought out by the enemy in a place so close to theirs?"

"Why do you ask such a ludicrous thing?" The kite's eyes narrowed. "Is this rebellion I sense?"

"No, no, mighty _gyeong_ ," The harrier dipped his head even lower, showing his humility. "I am concerned, that is all. Is it safe to keep the captives such a short distance from the location of the enemy? They are spreading further quickly. They may soon be upon us."

"What do you think your training was for? They come here, we lower their numbers, thus weakening them."

"What shall we do with those in the underground? Have they not suffered long enough? Some have been here for years, and they resist. They will not join the cause."

"Well, if that is the case, we shall put an end to all of them. If they resist, they shall pay. This land has made them fools. And fools must die!"

"Yes, mighty _gyeong._ " The harrier dipped his head even further, so that the tip of his beak touched the ground. "When shall we kill?"

"Daybreak. Tomorrow."

"What of the young?"

"They resist now, they resist forever. They shall die with the fools who brought them into this world."

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Now, check the underground. Offer them a cause one last time, and make sure none have taken their life already."

"Yes, mighty _gyeong._ Right away."

The harrier departed to the outside, then lifted the grass-covered hole next to their gate, which lead to the underground bunker. He lifted the cover, then climbed the ladder down to the chamber. Some of them had been hidden for years, while others had only arrived within the past few days. He didn't care. Nobody else did. If they wouldn't cave, there was no reason to keep them alive. They would eradicate every bird in the nation if they had to in order to make them wise enough to listen to them. They were only a stain upon their world, anyway. When he reached the base, he was met with a screeching fury of imprisoned birds. They were all different species; some hawks, some eagles, some owls, they were all mixed. And soon, they would all be silenced forever.

" _CHIMMUG!_ "

The screeching ceased in an instant. The harrier paced down the hall, cages on either side of him. Some of them shrank back in fear, others shot him glares.

"Now," he drawled in an oozy voice. "You all have one last chance. Who will take up arms? Learn the truth? Join us in our quest to destroy this evil nation?"

"You certainly are a presumptuous bird, aren't you?"

He shot a look at the prisoner who dared to have made the remark. She was a more recent captive, a Barn Owl. She and her chick had only been imprisoned for a couple of days. It was an easy catch; she and the young one were alone in their hollow, and they had thought that the hatchling could be molded easily to match their customs. However, she proved to be just as resistant as her mother.

"Say it again," the harrier menaced as he neared her cage. "Say it again, and see what happens."

"I'll say it again, and I'll say it a thousand times if I have to. I don't know who you winged rats think you are, but I can assure you that you aren't going to get away with any of this. Someone will sniff you out. And when they do, they will destroy you all. And I hope that you suffer through a long, painful death."

The harrier's rage built with every word that escaped her beak, to the point that once she was finished, he let out a livid squawk.

"You believe I am the rat?" he said, pressing his face against the cage. "Why don't you look at yourself! And even more so, you're spawn!"

Then there was a flash of white, and the harrier let out an earsplitting scream of pain as he struggled to detach himself from the bars. All of the other prisoners stared in amazement as he fell to the floor, covering his left eye with his wing. They all turned to the owl. Her beak, slightly bloodied, was a clear indicator of what had just occurred.

"Tomorrow morning," the harrier said, breathing heavily. "You will all meet your end."

He made his way back towards the ladder, then, as he grabbed hold of it, he turned toward them once more.

"And it will be a long, painful death for all of you."

He climbed up and out of sight. The Barn Owl turned to her chick.

"Don't let any of what that dirtball said go to your head, Emily. He has no idea what we're capable of."

"Are..." the hatchling asked shakily. "Are we gonna be okay?"

Her mother hesitated to respond. She didn't want to lie to her chick, but she figured it was best to keep her spirits up.

"I can't say for sure. But listen to me. No matter what happens, you mustn't be afraid. No matter what he says he will do, I will guard you with everything I have. And if, by any chance, I don't make it out of this place alive, I'll make sure you do."

"But what if you can't come with me?" Tears rolled down the chick's facial disc, and her mother wiped them away with a feather.

"I will always be with you. Even if you can't see me, just remember that I will always be watching over you; protecting you."

"You've got some guts, owl."

The mother raised her head to see who had spoken. Almost directly across from her, on the other side of the small prison area, was a Bald Eagle, who had a chick of her own beside her.

"I gotta give it to you. Not a lot of birds stand up to the Shredders. And the ones that do are usually taken out immediately afterward. I guess you kind a got lucky this time, considering the situation, but still. You're not one to be messed with."

"Augh," Nutmeg wasn't sure whether to feel better or worse about the compliment. "Th-thank you, I..."

"Yeah, I know, it looks pretty grim. But it's always best to keep your beak up, you know?"

"I...I guess you're right." She took a better look at the eagle. Despite her surprisingly positive attitude, she looked as thin as a branch, and the dark circles under her eyes made her look much more aged than she probably actually was. She had a hatchling, so she couldn't possibly be all that old.

"Erm...so...How long have you been here, ma'am?"

"A few years. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. They don't feed us a lot here, that's for sure. They try to tempt us with food sometimes, sayin' that they'll fatten us up if we join them. But I don't believe them for a second. Most of their troops are still underfed. I've seen a number of them come in here over the past few years. A lot of the birds held here don't even make it to execution day, anyway. They usually die of starvation, give in and join those...well, 'dirtballs' as you said, or just commit hara-kiri to save themselves from the suffering. Just goes to show you how cowardly some birds are, am I right?"

"Y-yes. I suppose you are."

"You beat up those butt birds," the eaglet piped up. She appeared to be a few years older than her owlet, and she was in just as bad condition as her mother.

"What's your chick's name?"

"Oh, this is Bethany. She and I were brought here together. Now, I'm willing to bet that you're wondering how we managed to survive the Shredders for this long."

 _This eagle is amazing. It's almost as though she can read my mind!_

"Well, if I had to guess, I'd say it had something to do with the fact that their leader had a bad beef with my husband. Scott was the head of the A.F.F. That stands for American Feathered Force, in case you didn't know. He was always fighting against the Shredders. Don't know how they ever made it to our country, but they did, and here they are, wreaking havoc everywhere they go. Scott and Jugembulam were pretty much arch-enemies, I guess you could say. Jugembulam was always tryin' to take over the land and kill everybody that wouldn't join him, and Scott was doing everything to prevent all that. So one night, the former decided it would be a good idea to make off with the American war hero's family, guess for revenge, and here we are. That skeeve Jugembulam probably either wants to make us suffer just to break his poor heart even more, or he was trying to make us convert, so he can show my husband that we 'betrayed him,' or something like that. He doesn't know it, but my daughter and I are quite a few steps ahead of him as far as brains go. I'd be willing to rise up against the Shredders right now, but I haven't got half the strength I had when we first came here. And even if I did, I doubt we could ever manage to get out of these cages. These padlocks ain't goin' nowhere, and the last time I tried to pick one with a feather, it wouldn't even so much as budge. And I doubt that anyone is going to come rescue us at this point, sorry to say."

"Well, I'm sure that there's at least someone out there who is trying to find us. And...even if they're too late...They'll give these Shredders what they deserve in the end. I'm sure of it! Do you think your husband is still looking for you?"

"Sweetie, I ain't even sure if he's alive still. He could have been taken out by the Shredders too, by now. But if he is out there, I hope he does us all a favor and slaughter that Jugembulam, so that everyone he ever did away with would finally be avenged."

The Barn Owl nodded.

"These Shredders really are a serious business, aren't they?"

"That they are. Good thing they aren't very bright."

"Ha! Yes. What did you say your name was, again, ma'am?"

"Name's Skye. Yours?"

"Nutmeg. And this is Emily, our...only child."

"Ah, really? You plannin' on havin' anymore?"

"Well..."

Nutmeg hated bringing up the topic of her missing children. But she figured it would help her get it off her gizzard a bit more.

"Me and my husband. We did have wo others. But...They just disappeared. One not long after the other. Not a trace of them. You don't think these Shredders had anything to do with that, do you?"

"I wouldn't know. They're usually careless enough to leave quite a bit of evidence at the scene. But if you say that there wasn't a trace of them, I can't really say for sure."

The faint light of day shining through the small cracks in the ceiling of the prison had almost completely disappeared, and she turned to her remaining chick.

"Let's get a good night's rest, alright?"

The owlet nodded, the settled down to roost. As silence settled among the small prison, Nutmeg looked up at the cracks. She could just barely catch sight of a star shining through one of them.

"Please," she whispered, just in case anyone could hear. "If there's anyone out there, please find us. Find us and save us from this. Please."


	11. Chapter 9: Clear Signs of Truth

"Where exactly are we, Unk?" Vaygar questioned. "We've been heading north for a few days now, and the constellations in these parts are way different than the ones back home."

"Well," the pit guardian replied. "I figured that since that storm came at us from the south, it must have continued to head north behind us. If that's where the storm went, it must have carried Ginger along with it. I say we keep heading north until we find a sign of her."

"But you didn't answer my question."

"Oh! My mistake, young one...Um...What was it again?"

"He wanted to know where we're at." Uklah reminded him with a frustrated sigh.

"Oh! Yes. I've browsed through a few of those atlases back in St. Aggie's before, and I'm glad to say they were worth the read. According to the maps, we're somewhere within the thin bridge of land that connects the North American continent to the South. I recall one of the countries names. Panama, I believe it was. We're most likely either in or near it. Not sure which, though. But there's one thing I can tell you. Within this range of small mountains and valleys, we'll be able to fly lower, and that way, we'll be more likely to encounter some sort of evidence pointing to where our dear general may have been blown off to."

"Hey! I see something! Down there on that cliff!" Phillip screeched.

In that instant, the Sooty Owl made a steep bank towards a small, protruding rock ledge jutting out of the side of one of the mountains. Upon closing in, the object stuck in the rocks turned out to be a familiar-looking tawny feather. Phillip could barely believe his luck.

"Uklah! Uklah!" he called. She would be able to further analyze the feather better than anyone else.

"What is it?" Felipe questioned.

"Oh, let's land." Phillip randomly suggested. "It'll be easier that way!"

Figuring that the situation must be of great significance, the group followed him to the ground in small spirals, landing on the grassy terrain before him.

"What'd...What'd you see?" Mario puffed. He was nearly out of breath from all of the flying they'd had to go through.

"This right here!" the ecstatic Sooty Owl exclaimed, shoving the feather in his face. He then turned and did the same to Uklah.

"Uklah! You're smart. Do you think you could maybe tell what kind of bird dropped this?"

"Most likely. I've read nearly all of the books on feather anatomy in the Tytonic library. I'm sure I could get at least a basic idea of what could have dropped it."

His fellow Pure One plucked the feather out of his talons with her own, then began to examine it. She put it just an inch from her eye, scanning its shaft, the ran her talon along its soft barbs. Finally, she pulled a loose secondary feather from her wing and held the to side by side. Her eyes began to widen, and a confident smirk stretched across her face.

"Ah-Ha!"

"What? What is it!?" Felipe squawked.

"No doubt, it's a Barn Owl feather! Secondary feather, probably from the right wing."

"Isn't that the one Ginger twisted?" Caesar added. "I saw what happened with her and the human that was leading that whole logging operation."

"Honestly, I didn't think it would have been a good idea for her to fly with that wing after that fight. But she kept insisting she was alright, and I guess that lead me to believe it wasn't as bad as it'd seemed at first. Seems as though I've been proven wrong."

"Anything else about that feather we should know?"

"It looks pretty damaged. Most likely by brine."

"What's brine, Uklah?" Vaygar asked.

"Just another term for saltwater. And this feather's clearly been exposed to it."

Phillip could barely contain his exhilaration.

"You don't think it might be..."

"It very well may! Now, where did you find the feather?"

"Up there! In that small cleft!"

Uklah turned her gaze toward the mountain. The small crack was facing south to southwest, the direction opposite from which the wind was blowing.

"Looks like the wind carried it this way until it got stuck there. I think Unk might be on to something with his wind theory!"

"Then let's keep heading northeast!" Unk announced. "Our search continues!"

"Unk," Mario sighed. "I understand that this is pretty groundbreaking discovery, but do you think we could maybe rest her for a bit and maybe refuel? I don't know how much more fatigue I can endure."

Aloiso nodded. His breathing was also somewhat heavy, and his eyes, though still fixed in a hardened stare, lacked the vital energy they had possessed in the beginning of their journey.

"It seems as though you're right, lad. Right then! Let's all take a breather before we get back in the clouds, shall we?"

The group only panted and nodded in response. The pit guardian gazed out upon his his small, yet valiant army with pride.

 _I see now why the High Tyto had chosen me to lead these young ones._ he figured to himself. _A booming warmonger among the likes of Stryker probably wouldn't let them at ease if their lives rode on it._

* * *

 _..._

* * *

"See anything yet, Sam?"

"Negative. What about you?"

"Nothing yet. This is where the Commander said we might find something of value?"

"He got word from the geographic profilers that this vicinity is where most of the suspicious activity over the past couple of years has taken place. And he suspects the Shredders to be at the core of it all. If we stay within the area, we're far more likely to discover some sort of evidence."

"What kind of evidence?"

"Feathers, blood splatter, fallen armor or seals, you name it. Anything pointing to the culprit's whereabouts. Now keep your eyes peeled, Dale. We can't afford to miss anything."

The two eagles continued scanning the treetops for anything worthwhile. They would have to scour the area beneath the foliage after they had completed their round. Dale continuously blinked and squinted his eyes to clear his vision. He was fairly new to the ranks, and was less adapted to the fighting environment than the other soldiers, so he struggled to see in the black, moonless cloak of night, even with the aid of a flashlight. Fortunately, he had begun to make out the silhouettes of the trees more clearly as the minutes slowly dissipated. Odd, he thought, considering that the sunrise wasn't due for another five hours. Stranger yet, the light seemed to be coming only from the east, whereas the west remained bathed in darkness. Dale turned an eye toward the direction from which the light seemed to be shining. Resting in a small clearing, just a short distance away, there appeared to be a small, flat-roofed, building. Barely two hundred square feet, its roof was painted green to match the grass surrounding it, leading Dale to believe that whoever resided within it didn't want to be found out.

"Hey! Ten o'clock!"

Sam looked to the east. Following Dale's pointing talon, he was quick to see the grey-brown walls underneath the camouflaged rooftop.

"Good eye, soldier. Looks pretty suspicious. Think we should go check it out?"

"Affirmative. If you ask me, it's likely whoever-or whatever-owns the place could be hiding something."

"Something that might be tied to the missing birds?"

"That or the Shredders. Could very well be both. Stay alert, though. Those guys might not be the brightest, but they do know how to shoot a gun."

Dimming their flashlights, the two troops flapped lightly as they cautiously approached the structure. There didn't appear to be anybody outside, but there was light emitting from the spaced square windows, a sure sign that the building was occupied. Being the only light source other than their own, it was no surprise to Dale that he had been attracted to it quite so easily. Sam lightly perched on one of the window sills along the north corner, ducked, and peered inside, hoping nobody would sense his presence. He eyed the back wall, and saw two familiar figures exchanging speech.

"See anything?"

"Looks like they were right about the location."

"What is it?"

"It's the Shredders."

Dale sighed and rubbed his temples with a grim knowledge that war was on the rise. This was certainly an imperative find, one that Commander Scott would have to hear about as soon as earthly possible in order to save whatever traumatized souls could be detained inside.

"What are they saying?"

"Shh! I'm listening..."

Hoping the two birds inside would reveal something important, Sam pressed his earslit against the glass to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"I mean not to question you, mighty _gyeong,_ but are you certain we cannot give them a bit more time? We have put much pressure on the Special Two. Perhaps they are closer to cracking."

"You heard my command, and you will obey! Unless you would rather join them in the massacre tomorrow."

"No, no, _gyeong!_ It just seemed such a shame that we must deprive ourselves of potential soldiers."

"They will not join our cause, no matter the consequence. And for that, they must perish!"

Jugembulam's easily-recognized booming voice pierced through the glass window. Sam continued to listen in.

"As you command, mighty _gyeong._ I will not disturb you again."

"And one last thing."

"Yes?"

"The two new ones are to be executed first upon the first rays of dawn. The Tyto Alba and her spawn. I see what they have done to you. I am sure you will not question such a command."

"Oh, no, no. I will not."

"Wise choice. Now, leave."

Then there was nothing. An obviously shaken Sam fluttered unsteadily onto the high ground. Dale was quick to notice his distress.

"What? What'd they say?"

His partner could barely come to terms with what was being planned.

"They're going to kill them all."

"Who?"

"They have prisoners. They're gonna execute them! Go!"

"Me!? Go where!?"

"Back to headquarters! Go right to Commander and tell him everything! I'll stay in the area and keep an eye on them until you and the rest of the militia get back, and I'll call for extra backup if anything happens! And get them all here before sunrise! Go! Now!"

Knowing now was not the time to argue, Dale did as told, and flew off in a rush for the rest of the American Feathered Force. Sam retreated out of the clearing and into the low lying bushes rather than the trees, in spite of the present danger of land predators. Gun loaded and pocket knife secured, he knew he would have a much better matchup against a raccoon or bobcat than an armed force of North Korean killers. But the threat of wildlife was among the least of his concerns. What he wanted most was for the infantry to arrive before the sun did, so they would have at least have a fighting chance of putting the Shredders' diabolical scheme to a halt.


	12. Chapter 10: A Fervor for Warfare

"A hidden base!? They've been right under our beaks this whole time!?"

"Yes, sir! And what's more, they're holding prisoners! They're gonna slaughter them all at sunrise!"

Scott was bewildered at the fact that the enemy had been hiding so close to them for so long. But his astonishment was mixed with a heavy dose of relief that they had finally cracked the case of he missing birds, and even more so with the fact that they did indeed have a chance to rescue them.

"Then there's no time to waste. Gather thirty grenadiers, fifty snipers, and thirty other cadets to rescue the prisoners, and have them all report to office immediately."

But as he gave the order granting the absent soldiers permission to his office, he began making his way toward the exit.

"Uh, Commander? Where are you going?"

"To get a little extra help. I won't be long. Until I return, you accumulate everyone in the Conference Room, get the separate forces organized and break the news to them. I should be less than an hour if I hurry."

Having given his command, Scott went out the opening and disappeared into the black sky, leaving the single cadet to carry out his duties.

* * *

...

* * *

 _The young owl kept flying. The familiar figures drew nearer and nearer. All of them were there; Unk, the macaws, and all of the other trainees. Save for Kludd and Nigel._

I wonder. Where could they have gone?

 _It didn't matter. As long as they weren't far. But still, something felt strange. She reached out with a talon to touch the foggy figures, but before she got the chance, a giant gust blew her out of their reach. She looked up. There in the place of her comrades was none other than that rascal leader of the Shredders, Jugembulam. His evil, scarlet glare pierced through the fog and directly into her gizzard._

You aren't getting away from me without a fight!

 _She lunged at the enemy, claws open, ready to tear. But when she continued hurdling through the air, she discovered that she had missed her target. He turned toward her and stared back, an eerie calmness entering his gaze. He shot himself at her at near blinding speed. Ginger watched as the grey-white fog ran red with her own blood, and she crashed headlong onto the unforgiving earth, crushing her fragile back. As she lay dying on the cold, hard ground, another figure loomed over her. It was hazy, too much so to recognize. It spoke._

 _"Rise, my child. There is little time. You must go. Now. Wake up!"_

 _Ginger recognized the voice immediately, and it sent a chill down her aching spine._

Mom!?

* * *

...

* * *

"Come on! Open those eyes of yours! Don't stay down on me now, soldier! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

"AH!"

An obviously startled Ginger awakened to a flurry of brown feathers frantically slapping her face. For him to be trying to wake her up while in such a deep state of slumber, she figured that the situation had to be important.

"What!? What!? What is it!?" she answered, eyes wide and fully awake.

"Okay, you have to listen. We found the Shredders' hideaway."

"You did!?"

"And they're holding a bunch of birds hostage. The best birds of the A.F.F are heading there tonight for a raid-and-rescue mission."

Ginger's wide gaze lessened slightly.

"I get that this is important, but what does all of this have to do with me?"

"I'm about to tell you. Just listen."

"I'm listening."

"You're a trained fighter, right?"

"Yes."

"How about stealth? You're not a noisy flyer?"

"Not at all. Owls are famous for their silent flight."

"Alright...We've already got a lot of soldiers on call for the mission, but I figured that I might as well ask you, anyway. Would you be-"

"You want me to join the fight. Am I right?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Gizzuition and prediction. Pardon the rhyming, sir."

"But you're willing?"

"It's what I train for."

"And you're up to it? If you're too tired, I won't make you fight."

"I ask for no more than a mouse and I swear to be right along your side fighting the good fight."

Scott looked her in the eye. Sheer determination and a strong will to fight burned within the sapphire orbs.

"Alright then." he replied with a solemn nod. "And one more thing."

"What's that?"

"This will also be a test. One final measure, in order to prove that you're on our side."

"I can assure you I'll pass," Ginger responded with a confident smirk.

"...I sure as hell hope so. Now. Let's get you refueled and loaded."

Scott took off hastily into the cloudy night, the Barn Owl following closely, though silently behind.

* * *

...

* * *

"Is he going to be back within the hour, Dale?"

"He has to be if we want to get there in time."

The assembly was growing restless. They matter at hand was of major affairs, and getting it done before it was too late was crucial.

"Hold on! I think I see him! He's coming in from the main entrance! And he's got someone with him!"

"Who? Who's he got?"

"Hold up. Isn't that...Isn't that the Barn Owl we took in a few days ago?"

The two birds glided into the base and alighted on the concrete floor, and were met with an interrogating swarm of the plus one hundred birds anticipating their arrival.

"Attention!"

The Commander's booming voice could be heard loud and clear among the chattering warriors, to which they all immediately held their beaks.

"Now, I am right when I say that Dale has already explained the situation to all of you, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir!" one of them answered, appearing stiff as a board.

"At ease. Now, I see that you have all remained well organized into your corresponding squadrons, and you all know what you have all been gathered here for. What you may not know is what this young owl is doing here."

"We do not, sir," one of the snipers replied.

"Well, then. You may be a bit surprised to find out that young Ginger Wingren, a former prisoner, will also be partaking in the battle to come."

"She WHAT?!" One of the cadets made the outburst, his eyes wide as dinner plates. Scott shot him a sharp glare, sending his eyes back into the sockets which they belonged.

"I assume that several of you are still somewhat wary of this young migrant, who was discovered nearly drowned in the Caribbean Sea, and claims to have lived in this very area at some point. I will have you all know that one of the main reasons she will be attending the events for tonight is to further support her claims to be on our side of the field, rather than opposed to us. She will fly with my main squadron, not only so that I, personally, may continue to monitor her, but also so that she may receive instructions directly from me in terms of the battle."

"How will she be armed?" one of the snipers inquired, reminding the eagle of something which had yet to be done.

"I'll have you find that out yourself, soldier. Go to my office. In my desk, in the middle drawer on the right, that's where you'll find her equipment."

The eagle left, and the old commander turned to face his troops.

"Yet another reason I am having Ms. Ginger join us is due to the possibility her potentially giving us a slight, yet well-needed edge. She is, of course, a Barn Owl, so she possesses a lot of physical differences when compared to us. Some of which could prove quite useful," he explained. "First off, she will not need to be equipped with a flashlight in order to enable her to see in the darkness. Speaking of which, I want everybody to set their flashlights to 'Dim.' In the early twilight hours, they needn't be quite so bright, especially if we're trying to keep ourselves hidden in order to carry out the mission."

His order was followed by a series of metallic clicking as all of the eagles adjusted their flashlights to match the given setting. When everyone had finished, they continued to fix their attention on the eagle.

"And owls don't just have good eyes, they can also hear better than any of us. Ginger, is it true that owls have asymmetrical earslits?"

She nodded, the pointed to two different spots on each side of her head.

"One's here and the other one's here."

"Their irregularly placed earslits allow them to triangulate even the most sensitive sounds, such as the beating heart of a rabbit or the shallow breath of another bird. Due to their extraordinary hearing, they can detect and locate pretty much anything that moves in even the blackest of nights."

"Permission to respond, sir!" It was another sniper.

"What is it?"

"Don't owls also have soft feathers? That's what makes them fly so quietly, right?"

"I'll let you answer this one, soldier." Scott stepped back, allowing the owl to do the talking. "You know better than me."

Ginger stepped into his place confidently.

"That is the case," she answered. "Each of our feathers have two different edges; one edge is serrated, so that when air is pushed against it during flight it reduces drag and stabilizes air flow, and the other has sort of a soft fringe that allows air to pass through without making any noise. And then our down feathers absorb whatever additional frequencies might remain."

"Is this what you were talking about, sir?"

It was the sniper who had left to fetch the requested armor.

"Yes. Thank you for that," he credited as he took the box from him, allowing the sniper to return to his position.

"What's in there?" the owl wondered aloud. The eagle responded by turning the front of the box toward her and pulling the lid open with his talons. There, delicately placed within the case, sat her long-awaited helm and battleclaws, which looked sharper and more brilliant than ever before. Ginger's eyes brightened.

"Why don't you slip 'em on now? We haven't much time to waste."

Knowing that the resue mission was still under way, she hastily slipped the spiky helmet over her face and locked her talons into the bronze-alloy claws. As she let herself sink into her armor, she gained a sense of strength, which fueled her hunger for victory. Scott pushed a button on the assembly room wall, which was followed by a whirring noise as the ceiling above them opened, revealing the darkness of the night sky.

"Formation!" Scott commanded. The eagles all arranged themselves into proper order.

"Ginger, you stay by me," he reminded. There was a fiery rage imbedded deep within the owl's eyes. No doubt she was ready and will to avenge the enemy's victims.

"Take off!"

A blur of browns, greens and whites followed the order as the fleet of feathered warriors took to the dimly lit night, all of which were lead by the noble commander. As Ginger's power takeoff turned gradually into a soar, she remembered the nightmare she'd been awoken from. Her flock of lost comrades, the vicious leader of the vile Shredders...the haunting voice of her mother. It all had to mean something. Sure, there was a high chance that she would come into contact with the power hungry dictator again, seeing that he was the main target. But what about the rest of the vision? Were her fellow Pure Ones, or even her family perhaps involved in the whole ordeal somehow, as well? Would something terrible happen to the ones she cherished most? She shook the thoughts out of her mind. It was all unthinkable. So much so that she feared they would interfere with her success on the battlefield ahead of them. Besides, it was merely a dream. Nothing but a meaningless jumble of thoughts all piled into one, nonsensical phantasm materialized by the deepest parts of her brain. None of it could possibly mean anything that important...right?


	13. Chapter 11: The Rescue Op

"Dale, where do you think Sam is going to be at?"

"Probably hiding somewhere in the foliage," the soldier replied. "At least, that's what he should be doing, unless he wants to potentially be seen by the enemy."

They were nearing the reported location of the hidden base. It was just in between four and five in the morning, and it would be light enough to be considered dawn within less than two hours.

"I'll see if I can get ahold of him," Dale continued as he pulled out his HT.

"Dale to Sam. Dale to Sam. Do you copy?"

Much to his good fortune, the other eagle answered back.

"Sam to Dale. I read you."

"Can you give us your location?"

"I'm just east of the clearing. On the ground, hidden among the bushes. I'm keeping a close watch on the building. So far, I haven't seen anybody around the facility, but that could change in as little as a minute. Did you alert the rest of the force?"

"Affirmative. There are more than a hundred of us on our way there as we speak."

"Excellent. Then I'll keep an eye out. If I see you overhead, I'll join in the brigade. I'm going to have to cut this short, though. We can't blow our cover. Over."

As the reception was cut off, the fleet began to slip into the gold and crimson trees encircling the enemy base. Commander Scott began to give out orders for the mission.

"Alright, I'd say we have just enough night left to carry everything out. Grenadiers, you stay in hiding while we carry out the action. If you see any sign of the enemy, you have my permission to bombard them. Snipers, I'm splitting you into two groups of twenty-five. One will stay in hiding behind the small, outside section of the base where the executions are supposed to take place. If they begin to carry out their plot, shoot them down. Odds are if we're able to locate the stronghold containing the prisoners, it won't get to the point at which they begin to execute them. Cadets, I'll be leading you into the most important part of the mission: the rescue. Basically, we infiltrate the underground bunker, break the captives loose, then lead them as far away from this place as possible until everything's died down."

"What about me?" Ginger inquired.

"You're going with me and the cadets to rescue the hostages. Now, everybody got that down?"

He was answered with a series of nods from the glaring eagles.

"Alright. Cadets, let's move out. The rest of you get into position. And be ready to attack at any moment."

The commander lead his militia out into the open field, gliding from the treetops, only making a small flutter of noise as they landed on the splotchy, yellow-green grass.

"I'm surprised that these bozos haven't put up any guard posts on the outside of their little shelter," one of the cadets remarked. "I guess it just goes to show you that they really are lacking in the brain department."

"Don't lower your guard now," Scott ordered with a low rasp, obviously having heard the statement. "Now if there's one thing I know about the Shredders, it's that they typically keep their prisoners and goods stored away underground for increased security. Ginger, can your hearing pick up sounds from underground?"

"Hold that thought," Ginger replied. Scott curiously watched the young warrior tilting and twisting her head in all different directions. Then, all of a sudden, she froze, and stood as tall and still as a statue.

"What is it?"

"This way."

Ginger made her way through the grass toward the gate, maintaining a crouched position to aid her invisibility. The other cadets followed in hot pursuit., growing more and more uneasy as she neared the facility. The owl only stopped when she was right in front of the edifice, just toward the right of the gate which lead inside. Her claws remained hidden amongst the vegetation as she fiddled about, pecking a hard surface of some sort. Then, just when Scott was about to question her actions, he heard a clicking noise, and Ginger popped a green cover up from off of the ground dropping what appeared to be a metal pin from her beak.

"A secret bunker," Ginger stated. Her earslits picked up the sounds of at least two score of lungs pumping air from deep within. "And it's occupied."

Commander Scott inched closer toward the hole.

"Ready your guns, boys," he warned. "Just in case the space is filled with hostiles and not hostages."

He peered down into the darkness below.

"Hey," he whispered. When he got no response, he increased his volume into a low call. "Hey!"

"Who is that?" someone called from inside. To the eagle's slowly unraveling relief, the voice lacked the familiar Korean intonation he had come to fear and loathe. "Have you come to finally put us out of our misery?"

"No. Is that what you're expecting?"

"Why not? But why would it matter to you? Aren't you all hell-bent on murdering the lot of us, anyway?"

 _Nope. Definitely passive._

"Are there any guards down there with you?"

"No. Just the lot of us on the brink of starvation."

The eagle lifted his head from the ground.

"We're clear. Ten of you man the hole while the rest of us go down and release everyone."

The twenty-two all made their way single file down the ladder, with the last ten staying above to stand guard. Scott and Ginger were the first ones to hit the floor. When Scott brightened his flashlight, awe and horror swept over the two of them as they gazed at the separate cages. Each of the contained at least one victim of the Shredder's cruelty, and there were birds of every species. Ginger recognized a goshawk, a kestrel, two Peregrine Falcons in one cell together. In all her astonishment, she barely took notice of what was in the cage right next to the two falcons.

"Wait..." Apparently, it had been the goshawk who held the brief exchange of words with Commander Scott just moments earlier. "You aren't..."

"We're the American Feathered Force," the eagle explained. "And we're here to make sure you all get back home in one piece."

The cadets each scrambled to the cages, racing against the clock to free the victims. Ginger watched one of them as he pulled out a small tool from his utility vest. As though through magic, it spat out a small, blue flame, which, when drawn near the handle of the lock, make quick work of it. The owl watched as the metal lock became nothing more than a burnt, molten puddle on the floor. Ginger approached her authority.

"So, how do you expect me to undo these things?"

"Here, use this," the eagle replied, despite his preoccupation with the same task as the others. As he continued to melt away the lock, he handed Ginger what looked to be some sort of stick via talon.

"What is it?"

"It's a lock picker. Just work it into one of the locks until you hear it click, then it should open."

 _Seems simple enough._ the owl presumed. She made her way to the unmanned cage next to that of the Peregrine Falcons, which were already being rescued, and peered inside to make sure it contained a detainee. Upon recognizing the figures within, she shuddered. Inside the cage were two Barn Owls, just like herself, so thin and colorless that they might as well be plagued with gray scale, a disease in the Hoolian Kingdoms known for turning feathers dull and splotchy. Ginger quickly shook off the unnerving sensation and began to work at the lock.

"Are you gonna give us our end?" a small voice inquired from inside. It was the owlet.

"What?" At first, Ginger had no idea what she meant by that, but after a few seconds of meditation on the subject, she figured that the chick thought she was a Shredder, rather than one who had come to rescue her.

"No. I'm getting you out of this dump."

"Who are you?" the mother owl asked her.

"Come again?" Ginger was so absorbed in her activity, she didn't even register her peculiar voice.

"Well, I assume that doesn't matter much who you birds are as much as what you're here for. Have you come to rescue us?"

"Yes." Now that the two had engaged in conversation, Ginger paid just a bit more attention to the captive, though all the while keeping her main focus on dismantling the lock. "How long have you all been down here?"

"Emily and I have only been here for a couple of days. I can't say that the same goes for all of us, though. An acquaintance of mine across from me claims to have been here for a couple of years now. And honestly, I never wanted to admit it to anyone-not even myself, but...Before Emily here, we had two other chicks. I sometimes speculate on whether or not it's possible that the same thing happened to them as what's happening to us at this moment."

"You all look pretty thinned out. Do those creeps ever bother to...feed..."

Ginger had only been half paying attention until she had paused to let her reply. Her talons slowed, and she began to put together bits and pieces of the given information in her head. The mother's missing children, the familiar pang in her voice, which sounded nearly identical to the one in her dream...It couldn't be...could it? She finally made eye contact with her fellow Tyto Alba. Her eyes, a soft shade of sea green, gave off a dull twinkle. They could be the eyes of any desperate mother Barn Owl, helpless as any other would be. She just needed one more piece of evidence to confirm her hunch.

"My apologies for trailing off, ma'am," She concealed her feminine tone by embedding a low growl in her speech, just in case..."Now, please pardon me for paying such little mind to what you have to say, but what did you say your names were again?"

"Me? I'm Nutmeg, and this is my youngest, Emily. Why do you ask?"

That was all she needed. No doubt, she was face to face with none other than the owl who had brought her into the world. The one she'd abandoned for her freedom. One of the last souls she could bear to reminisce upon.

Her own mother. Locked away, and at the mercy of enemy talons.

Ginger gizzard petrified, and her eyes stared dead on, straight into the broody's.

"Miss?" The masked soldier seemed to be locked in some sort of hypnotic trance. "Is something the matter?"

Her words barely wormed their way into the young one's head. She just stood there, staring, her blue eyes void of emotion. Finally, the mysterious owl shook the daze from her face, and looked back down at the lock without saying another word. Finally, after what seemed like hours, it gave way, and the owl slid the undone lock through the hole and off of the cage, hastily opening it thereafter.

"Get out," she ordered, still keeping her voice well-disguised. "We can't waste anymore precious time. Not now."

"That's everyone, Commander!" a cadet announced. "Let's move out before-"

"DADDY!"

All of the birds in the vicinity turned toward the origin point of the high-pitched shout. Their Commander, revered for his severity and longsuffering, had his wings draped over two of the captives, a river of tears flowing from his dull eyes.

"H-how...Why didn't they," he stammered. Skye put a feather to his beak.

"Let's save this for once we're long gone," she whispered. "I must say, I'm quite sure none of us would have ever expected something like this to ever be. Not at a time like this."

"I'm elated to see you all alive," he told his long lost family. "But you're right. This is no time for a family reunion."

 _Sure hope there's only one,_ Ginger said to herself, eyeing her mother and sister behind her.

"Ma'am," She continued to use the raspy undertone. "Are you fit to fly?"

"I'm not sure. I've been able to snatch a few wandering bugs here and there for us to nibble on for the past few days, but in terms of nutrients, it seems lacking."

"Then I'll have you and Emily paired up with an armed cadet. If ground travel is necessary, he'll be your shield."

"I'll volunteer," The cadet manning the kestrel's open cage stepped to the plate.

"You, sir," Ginger approached the cadet with an unusual fierceness in her gaze. "Better make sure nothing at all happens to these two, or else I'll have your-"

"Hey, General!" Scott snapped. "Just because I let you in on the mission doesn't mean you get to give out orders!"

The owl dipped her head in submission.

"Yes, sir."

"That's more like it. Alright, men, the sun won't be much longer, so let's hightail it out of here before things spin out of control!"

The old bird scaled the ladder back up toward the surface, and popped the hatch open.

"Why do you leave so soon?"

From below, the birds could easily identify the slimy voice. All eyes turned to Ginger as she rubbed her battleclaws against one another, making certain that they were as sharp as ever. The sun reentered her eyes, and they shone with an intense, metallic glow.

"Ready your guns," she ordered, ignoring her own discipline as she inched toward the ladder. "And prepare to kill."


	14. Chapter 12: Blood of the Dawn

The trapdoor slammed shut with a metallic "BANG," and Commander Scott shot right back into the bunker just as the racket of gunfire blasted from above.

"We're under fire!" the eagle shouted, barely audible over the clanging doing of bullets on the seal above. "Everybody into position!"

 _One would think they would open the bunker door and come in after us before wasting so much ammo,_ Ginger contemplated.

"You take this!" Scott tossed something to the young owl. It was a shiny black pistol, so heavy, she could barely catch it without being thrown back by its weight.

"How do I-"

"Just aim the barrel and pull the trigger!" he explained abruptly. The sound of more gunfire, accompanied by ground-shaking rumbles, followed his command.

"Sounds like the grenadiers are doing their job well enough," he commented. He saw that his troops had all hid themselves within the small spaces in between and behind the cages, and all of the prisoners had retreated back inside of their confines. Much to the eagle's dismay, Ginger remained beside him, still staring intently at the closed hatch above.

"What are you doing!?" Scott protested. "Get into position!"

Ginger didn't respond for what seemed like several minutes before turning to him.

"I've got an idea," she proclaimed. And then, to Scott's horror, she stepped forward and began to climb up the ladder!

 _She's either insane, or she's been throwing us for a loop this whole time about not being a spy._ he said to himself, watching as the owl reached the top. Ginger reached out a wing and ever so lightly knocked on the trapdoor-so light that her feathers against the metal barely made the faintest scratching noise. She could hear several clicking noises and some hushed murmuring coming from above. Scott watched intently as she closed an eye and pointed the black pistol directly above. He heard the seal pop open once more, and then came the slow creak of the enemy above prying it open.

There was a single shot fired, and Scott watched as the limp body of an osprey fell to the floor. Then, as the trapdoor slammed shut once again, the sound of gunfire rang out, just as it had before.

"Mighty _Gyeong!_ " they heard a voice scream. "We are running out of bullets!"

"Don't be stupid! Fetch more!"

"But there is only one more set! For emergency, only! No more coming for another week!"

"What do you call this, _baegchi!?_ Fetch more!"

"They've run short on ammo!" Ginger announced. "Now's are chance! Everybody! Move out!"

The Barn Owl threw open the green lid and shot up out of the underground, the infantry of eagles following close behind. The Shredders dropped their empty guns and drew their swords advancing on the American Feathered Force in droves, only to be shot down by the eagles, whose weapons were, of course, of much longer range. As the gunfire above grew more intense, and Shredders' bodies continued to fall from the blood red sky, Scott retreated underneath the battlefield and gathered together the hostages, along with the last ten cadets to leave the prison.

"Alright, with everything that's going on up there, I want you to take these guys back to base. Stay low, and don't overexert the rescuees. And whatever you do, don't make them fly. Most of them haven't had a decent meal in who-knows-when."

"Yes, sir," one of them replied in a hoarse whisper, and the fleet began to depart.

"No! Not while I continue to breathe!"

The voice belonged to the vile dictator, Jugembulam. He and his full squadron of elite sword fighters came at them with full force, and forced the eagles into melee combat. One of the eagles was quick to end up pinned, the enemy's blade slowly nearing his throat. Then, all of a sudden, it screeched, dropped its weapon, and scrambled aside, his words drowned by his own choking. It was one of the captives! The Peregrine had tackled the Shredder from behind and wrapped his long wings around the enemy's neck, fixing them into a tight constraint. It was only a matter of seconds before the sword wielder collapsed.

"This is our fight as much as it is yours," he claimed. "We'll help whenever we see the need."

The former prisoners called their captors' attention with taunting screams. As the Shredders pursued them, they abandoned the gun-armed eagles. The lack on restraint allowed them to regain access to their rifles, and they shot down five of the elites within seconds.

"Go, go, go! Fall back!" It was Ginger who called the ground cadets, blockading the ammo retrievers from entering their facility with three other soldiers. It was obvious they were struggling. "Before they break through!"

"You," Jugembulam snarled as he eyed fleeing captives. "I will not let you escape!"

With only the several elite swordfighters he had left, he flew in and continued his attack on the eagles, using the same surprise-and-block method he had his birds employed before.

"You seem especially worried about those prisoners!" One of the soldiers beside her commented as he locked talons with one of the Shredders. The two of them were pinned to the door, while the other two fought off oncoming hostiles from above.

"Don't tell anyone I told you!" she growled as another one slammed his own talons into her open battleclaws. "One of them just so happens to be my mother!"

"So, Barn Owl," the attacker taunted as he pushed harder against the owl's body, threatening to break the bones in her legs. "That old crow is your mother, is it? I'd like to see you burn in a melting pot with her!"

The insult enraged the owl to the point where sheer adrenaline allowed to shove the hawk right off of her. The force sent him onto the ground, and she raked her battleclaws across his exposed underbelly and began to thrash and tear wildly at it. Blood flew everywhere from where she stood.

"You three!" she called to her comrades. "I'll have some of the ground troopers help you with the block off! I'm going to help the captives! In the mean time, whatever you do, don't let them into that building!"

She rushed over to where the cadets and hostages fought, avoiding the still falling bodies as she navigated the field. Ginger responded to one the offenders by jumping onto his back, and she grabbed it hard with her razor, metal talons. She heard a snap, and let go of the now limp body.

 _I seem to have a knack for snapping spines._ she said to herself as she observed the outcome of her move.

"Five of you head to the enemy base and block off the entry way!" she ordered the protectors. "They'll get their talons on the ammo and make this even more crazy if you don't hurry! I'll help deal with the elites!"

The first five to react headed to the entry way, leading the attacking Shredders away from the hostages...for the time being.

 _They really are stupid, aren't they? Not bothering to call any of their own troops to attack us?_

Ginger turned to her new team and announced her plan.

"We gather up the kids first! Then we move on to the bigger ones, got it?"

She was answered with a series of nods, and the six birds searched the field for the smaller hostages. The first one Ginger came across was the Barn owlet, Emily.

"You, come with and the rest of the hatchlings will be safer in a group."

"Who are you?" her little voice squeaked.

"A friend."

She held back a tear forming in the corner of her eye as she lead her sister towards the east end of the field among the bushes. She had been staring her mother right in the eye when she had said that Emily was her chick. She had a sister. She could barely believe it.

 _How bittersweet._

She lead the chick to the brush where a few others of different species were waiting. Sam was there with them, as he'd been alerted of the situation, and he took it upon himself to keep them hidden along with him.

"You kids stay here," Ginger told them. "Once this is all over, we'll take you all home."

"How's the army faring?" Sam inquired.

"Not badly. The enemy has very little ammunition left and what they do have is being guarded by our own troops. The only thing we're really having trouble with is getting the bigger hostages away from the battlegrounds."

"Could you use another bird?"

"I think we have it covered for now. But stay alert, in case anything changes. I gotta get back out there. Just keep them in the underbrush!"

Ginger shot upward to get an aerial view of the field. The small clearing was dotted with the bodies of many Shredders, their blood pooling around them. There were only around perhaps fifty of them or so left alive, a handful of which were the dictator's elite fighters. It shouldn't be too much longer until they were all gone. She stooped down towards the crowd of prisoners and surprised the swordfighters with a grab-and-throw attack on one of them.

"You six!" she called. "New plan! keep everyone together, including the remaining hatchlings!"

She lead the group of elites toward the other side of the field, Jugembulam still leading what was left of his fleet.

"Fool!" the kite called to her. "Why do you make yourself weak!?"

Ginger didn't even give him the satisfaction of looking back at him. It was almost as though she were trying to get herself killed, seeing as she was far outnumbered by his best fighters.

 _Wait..._

Realization dawned on him. She was distracting them! The dictator's blood boiled, and he swore to himself that his prisoners would not live to see another day.

"Kill!" he barked to five of his remaining elites before turning tail, and he and his three other elites made their way toward the fleeing hostages once again. Ginger looked back; the swordfighters were gaining momentum, and she had to plot out evasive maneuvers fast if she wanted to escape them. They were certainly much stronger than the ones she had faced at Commander Scott's aerie, but she figured they wouldn't be much smarter, seeing how the dictator himself had handled the battle. Finally, she knew what had to be done. She stooped down once again, and performed a steep dive into the forest below, disappearing among the red and gold leaves. She banked and spun about one of the great tree trunks, dodging the branches she flew by, and she became closer and closer to the forest floor. Finally, she fluttered over the fallen leaves and hid herself in a nearby bush, listening closely for her pursuers.

"Spread!" one of them screeched. "Don't rest 'til she's found and dead!"

Their flight was noisy, and she could hear them flying all about the branches above. There was no way they would think to look for her on the ground, especially seeing that this was the time that predators were prowling the most. And if she did encounter some fearsome wild animal, she would claw its face off, for sure. She peered up. The wingbeats grew steadily fainter, and she began to trek back on foot; she knew which way was west, her gizzard pointed the way for her as it shifted with the magnetism of the earth. When the wingbeats dissipated, and when she heard no heartbeats, she ran past the trees, kicking up the fallen leaves, and took to the air, back towards the battlefield. As she neared her destination, she tilted her head, triangulating and processing the noises. She heard a great deal of commotion. What horrible things had taken place during her short absence?

The trees parted, and she gazed upon the clearing, lit up by the bloody red dawn. Jugembulam, along with the three elites he had left accompanying him, was still trying to break apart the prisoners from their protectors. Had their militia run out of ammunition as well? But even without their long range weapons, they still outnumbered the Shredders by far at this point. If only it didn't take so many eagles to guard a group of common folk. Ginger eyed the dictator, her eyes burning with the hateful flames of the Sacred Ring.

 _If I could just manage to kill that Glaux-damned kite,_ she thought. _His followers wouldn't last much longer._

She remembered the strategy Allomere had employed in the Battle of the Beaks, in which his intentional self-removal from the battlefield left his entire mock-squadron at the mercy of Pure One talons. An effective maneuver, as it demolished nearly the entire Search-and-Rescue Chaw. Ginger wondered how well it would work on the opposing Shredders.

"You!" she screamed to her target, hoping for him to follow after her again. "Guess who's back!?"

The kite was circling above his captives like a vulture, waiting for an opportunity to strike. He looked back at Ginger, who had begun to approach, her battleclaws gleaming in the red morning light. But he seemed to pay no mind to her.

 _Fine, then_. she decided. _We'll see how he likes another one-on-one battle!_

She aimed to strike the dictator in the spine, but quickly slowed her flight when she saw him turn around and draw his sword from his sheath-something he hadn't bothered to use when he attempted to pillage Scott's aerie a second time. It was too late to turn tail before the attack; her battleclaws scraped across Jugembulam's metal blade, producing a hellish screech. She went for his talons; perhaps she could get him to drop the weapon. But he responded with a quick flick of his blade, and Ginger swiftly pulled her own talons back. They were the last thing she wanted to lose. Deciding to use desperate measures, Ginger folded her wings and began to plummet; if she went fake-yeep, perhaps it would make her appear vunerable, and she could catch him off guard.

"Diving out of battle?" he snarled. "It won't work!"

Ginger quickly found his claim to be all too true. He stooped downward and sped towards her with the speed of an arrow. Ginger could hear his angry breath. He was gaining quickly-too quickly for her to outpace for long! The owl was certain that he would grab her by tail and slash her to bits any moment. The ground drew closer. Would she die by crash or by sword!?

 _Wait...Crash...CRASH!_

Ginger opened her wings and pulled up, her underbelly just barely scraping the tips of the dry grass. She heard a loud thud behind her, followed by an anguished cry. She peered behind her to see the kite tumble along the hard ground before rolling a ways behind her and lying still. She turned around and proceeded in the direction of her injured opponent, just to make sure whether or not the impact had killed him. To her surprise, she saw him stand slowly to his feet and grab his dropped sword. But when he tried to fly, he barely managed to flap five times before his wings gave out, and he landed on top of his flapping wing with a snap and a thud.

"Had enough?" the owl taunted, watching him struggle to stand again.

"Shut your beak! You won't be happy seeing it torn off."

"I'd like to see you try."

And try he did. The wing he'd landed upon dragged limply behind him, and the way it was bent was a sure indication it was broken; he was grounded. So Jugembulam let his legs give out, and he emitted a sickly gurgle from somewhere in his gizzard and fell forward, allowing drool to escape his open beak.

Ginger approached him cautiously and kicked lightly at his talons; no response-not even a breath of air. Perhaps internal damage caused by his collision had caught up with the rest of his body. She picked up the sword by his feet and raised it into the air, intending to make absolutely sure he would stay dead.

 _What a way to go,_ she mused. _Slain by your own weapon._

"NO!"

The seemingly lifeless body regained its vitality tenfold in an instant, and scraped the owl's stomach with his thin talons. Ginger fell backward with an angry screech and held onto the site of the wound; the kite's talons had hooked into her flesh, and had torn out a large chunk of it. But she held fast onto the sword; the last thing she would do was let him reclaim it, no matter how much blood she spilled.

"Flight or no flight," the dictator sneered. "I won't cease until I see you dead."

"Funny. I was just about to say the same about YOU!"

She lunged at the kite, threatening to rip his entire face off with her talons. She just barely dodged him, and she was met with a hard blow to the face from a kick of Jugembulam's talons. The owl stumbled backward with a sharp screech, now much more aware of the pain in her abdomen. The kite flung himself at her legs, sending the both of them crashing into the ground. Before she even knew what was happening, Jugembluam had her pinned to the ground, his sword reclaimed and pointed no more than an inch from her face.

"All of you lowly worms deserve a fate like this," he sneered, raising his sword for the kill.

How could she win? Could she try and push him off of her with her own powerful talons? Flip him onto his back? No; he was too heavy and the sword was too near. If she tried anything like that, it really would be the end. But she was desperate, not caring if she even lost an eye trying to turn the tables.

All of a sudden, the grip on her shoulders loosened, and Jugembulam staggered backward, emitting agonizing screams. Ginger sat up and blinked, making absolutely sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

They weren't. Nutmeg had thrown herself onto the bloodthirsty kite, digging her talons into his sides and pecking at his eyes. Ginger seized her chance, and pounced onto the enemy, shoving her bronze battleclaws right into the dictator's chest. She felt them wrap around something round, and she ripped it right out in a bloody mess.

Instantly, Jugembulam stopped struggling, and seemed to freeze.

"Move aside!"

Nutmeg pushed her daughter away, then grabbed the kite's head in her bare talons and smashed it into the ground, one, two, three times. On the fourth, the thud of the bird's head hitting the earth through the grass was drowned out by a sickening crunch. Ginger looked down at the kite; now, there was no doubt he was dead. She had torn out his crop, and her mother had completely crushed his skull, and everything inside of it. It was a ghastly sight, but it filled Ginger with pride, both for her own work and for Nutmeg's bravery. If it hadn't been for her mother, she'd be dead.

"You're bleeding!"

Ginger's train of thought was cut off by Nutmeg's exclamation, and she suddenly felt faint.

"What?"

She didn't think to disguise her voice, having completely forgotten that she was supposed to be avoiding this owl at all costs.

"It's not that bad," she continued. "It's just a scratch. It's just-"

Ginger fell onto her side, and the world around her blurred into darkness.

* * *

 _..._

* * *

Ginger's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself back in the infirmary; the same room she'd been taken to when she collapsed. There was a dull pain in her abdomen, and she could feel that it was wrapped in bandages. She reached up to massage between her eyes, only to feel cold metal instead of warm feathers. She ran her primary down the metal surface, then up the thin spikes than jutted out of where her crest would be. No doubt, she still had her helmet on.

That was when everything came back to her. The battle against the Shredders in order to save the hostage birds, the one-on-one brawl with the dictator, and her mother coming to her aid when she needed it most. Ginger had no idea how her mother had managed to get to her safely among the two fighting forces, but she had. And she had no idea what made Nutmeg want to save her in particular, instead of another soldier that could have been in need. She hoped it wasn't because Nutmeg had seen through her bronze-alloy mask.

And she hoped to Glaux that the mask hadn't fallen off and revealed her face when she collapsed.

"You awake in there, yet?"

It was Commander Scott, calling from the outside.

"Yeah." Her voice was flat. "Come right on in."

The eagle entered the room quietly and even hesitantly. Ginger didn't make eye contact with him. She just kept staring up at the ceiling.

"How we doin' here? You healing up okay? Nurse says the wound wasn't as bad as it looked; the main concern was the blood loss. But they say it's at a normal level, now. You slept it off well enough, I'd say. You were out nearly a day and a half."

"A day and a half!?"

She'd been out for longer before, but it was still a long time to be asleep.

"We had you monitored, though, make sure you didn't slip into a coma. Besides, the nurses said you needed the extra rest, with all the stress put on you."

Ginger contemplated what she had just heard for a few moments. It made sense that the chain of events that had occurred over the past three days would take a toll on her system.

"I suppose that's true." Her voice was flat again.

There was a long silence between the two birds.

"What's eatin' ya?" the commander teased. "You don't sound like someone who just won a battle against the enemy."

"That's not what's bothering me." She turned to look at him. "I am glad we won. And I hope this victory is passed down for generations."

"Then...what is bothering you?"

There was another long pause. Ginger noted that Scott seemed to be in a better mood; not at all the way he'd been when the two had first met. Then again, he had been reunited with his long-lost mate and daughter. Perhaps this was what he was like before the incident with the Shredders Silvia told her about.

She wondered if her own father had become stern and stoic when he lost his mate and daughter.

She wondered if he'd become that way when he lost her and Felix.

"Does she know?"

The eagle's eyes softened. He knew exactly what she meant.

"I'll be honest with you; she's suspicious, but she doesn't know for sure. When I asked her why she'd want to see you, she told me it was because you were the one who saved her, and she thought it was the least she could do for a fellow Barn Owl in need. Besides, she said that you reminded her a lot of...well...you. She almost asked me if it really was Ginger Wingren underneath that mask. I wasn't going to flat-out lie to her face, so I changed the subject before she could finish."

"Thank Glaux." She almost breathed the phrase. Though her voice remained void of emotion, she meant it with all her heart and gizzard.

"Well, with all that out of the way, I was wondering if you'd be up for a few visitors."

"Visitors? Who in hagsmire would want to see me now?"

"Oh, I don't think it's anything special." Ginger could sense the irony in is tone. "A few birds paid a visit to the border while you were out of it. When I took them in for interrogation, they told me that they hail from a little place called the Beaks."

"What?" Her voice went from flat to shocked.

"Oh, yeah. They say that they lost someone while they were on their way back too, oh, what was it called? The Tytonic Union of Pure Ones?"

The owl leapt off of the bed and planted her talons on the floor.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let them in, let them in!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait! You'll overexert yourself!"

"No I won't!"

Ginger made her way to the door and flung it open, and was immediately met with a barrage of hooting cheers, accompanied by a series of "What happened?"s and "Where were you?"s and a single "Congrats on not dying!" from Felipe.

"How did you all find me?"

"We followed the winds, General," Unk replied. "They took northeast, so we cut across the Gulf and hugged the coast during our search. I assume that, if you hadn't stumbled upon these eagles, you would have tried to make your way back to us from somewhere familiar?"

"Probably so."

"We had that bit going for us. Plus, Phillip and Uklah found this during our search."

The horned owl pulled out the salty feather and showed it off.

"It looked like it could have been yours," Vaygar added.

"Looks like it," Ginger said as she took the feather and compared it to her own. After her examination, she handed it back to Unk and let out a long, relieved sigh.

"You would not believe the ordeal I've been through," she uttered. "I can't wait to get back home, can you?"

"Not to object, ma'am," Uklah told her. "But I recommend another day of rest before we head out. The little incident you had in the Amazon probably contributed to your getting lost in the first place. Not only has your wing been overstressed, but now you've got that nasty avulsion. I wouldn't be flying just yet."

Ginger opened her beak to object, but it was quick to shut. Uklah was right; she wasn't up for the full flight just yet.

"I'll take your word for it," the General mused as she got a better look at the squadron. Everyone was there; Unk, the Macaws, Vaygar, Phillip, Uklah...almost everyone. The Barn Owl cursed herself. How could she not have noticed sooner?

"Where's Kludd? And Nigel?"

"That island, Ginger, where we stopped on our way to the main land. Nigel couldn't withstand anymore of what the ocean had to throw at him, and we kept Kludd there with him to make sure nothing went awry."

"Why Kludd, though?" She was confused as to why her own admirer, of all birds, hadn't attended the search party. "Why not someone like Aloiso?"

"You couldn't imagine how devastated the boy was," Unk explained. "He was afraid that if he found you..." He hesitated. "Less than alive, he wouldn't be able to go on, if...if you know what I mean."

"You're not serious."

"Quite so. Which is why, once you're in better shape, we'll have to make our way back. And quickly."

"I say we leave at high noon tomorrow. How's that sound?"

"Don't see why not," the pit guardian agreed. "As long as you're up for it."

"I should be."

"Alright, soldiers. The general needs her rest, so let's let her have it," Unk ordered, and the lot of birds began to pour out, giving the wounded owl their final best wishes on their way out. The old eagle sighed once they were all gone.

"Need anything else, kid? How 'bout something for your gizzard to grind? Mouse, maybe? Vole?"

"Sounds good. Surprise me, why don't you?"

"Will do."

"So..." Ginger continued. "The Shredders. Are they, like...gone?"

Scott breathed heavily and scowled.

"Defeated, for now. But Jugembulam still has some loyalists back in his own country, so it's more than we can hope that the threat will stay buried forever, dictator or no dictator. They'll find a new one, and someday, probably within the next few years even, they'll come back. They don't stop."

"They don't know when to quit?"

The eagle guffawed. "I guess that's one way to put it, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well how about we **put** them all in the slammer?"

The two soldiers had a good, long laugh; a nice break from the tension of the battlefield, the owl thought. After the roaring cackles settled into silence, the old commander made his way for the door, though still facing the young Pure One.

"One more thing, though, before I leave."

"What's that?"

Commander Scott took a deep breath and rubbed his temples.

"I...just wanted to thank you for what you did out there. And...apologize for thinking you were, well...one of them."

"Don't be sorry. You were just doing your job. And you do it well, sir."

"Hmph...You do yours pretty well, too. You should have seen what you and Nutmeg did to the old dictator. He was barely recognizable."

"You do anything with the body?"

"Well...We just buried it. Nothing fancy; no tombstone, no grave marker, nothing like that. A lot of us were satisfied with the simplicity of the burial; didn't think he deserved the fancy ceremony he'd get if he died on his home turf. Honestly, I feel I should be a lot happier about his demise, but...you know, I value life. I value it a lot. And no matter what I think at times, or who's on the receiving end, there's just something about knowing you took someone else's life that makes me feel guilty. You ever get that feeling?"

"I...can't say I have."

Ginger had done in several Shredders over the past few days without mercy, yet it wasn't until now that she actually developed that feeling of guilt Scott spoke of.

"But they're the enemy," she reasoned aloud. "We're not supposed to value the lives of our enemies. How would we win any wars?"

"A compelling argument. We probably wouldn't...But it'd be good if we found a way to settle each other's differences without having to blow each other's heads off, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah...Maybe. If we could ever pull something like that off."

"Well, never say never. But, still. I salute you for your service to your nation."

He took the helmet off his head and rose his primaries to his forehead.

"No, not mine," the owl corrected as she did the same. "Ours."

A smile came to the eagle's face.

"I like you, kid," he said with a nod as he turned the doorknob. "You're really somethin' else."

With that being said, the commander opened the door and was gone. Ginger was alone again, left to wait for her meal to be brought to her. She couldn't wait to be able to hunt for herself again, despite her gratitude towards the A.F.F. for their assistance.

 _Come to think of it,_ she mused. _They wouldn't make bad additions to our fighting squadron back home, with all that advanced tech and weaponry. Maybe this whole shenanigan wasn't such a waste of time, after all._

There was no questioning that the A.F.F. would make for an incredibly strong ally; stronger than the macaws, even.

 _But would they accept?_

The U.S. was in need of a far greater militia than the Tytonic Union, or the entirety of the Owl Kingdoms for that matter, seeing as they weren't quite so threatened by outside forces. Plus, connection with a place so near human civilization would put the hidden island at risk of being discovered. The macaw alliance had been less of an issue because of how remote the Brazil Nut Grove was, but these eagles carried out their duties very close to, if not within the city limits, and the risk of being both seen and followed was to great to consider. And what if the two forces didn't get along? She had explained a few things about the Union to Scott, and while he seemed to agree with some of what they valued, she wasn't sure if he would agree with everything. Should the alliance be shaky, the A.F.F. could potentially end up becoming an enemy should something go awry with the relation, and their advanced technology was just as dangerous to the Owl Kingdoms as it could be helpful, if not more so than the latter.

The owl's thoughts were cut off by a stifled yawn, and she suddenly felt drowsy.

 _I'll discuss the matter with the eagles in the morning,_ she decided, knowing she would be able to sort things out more efficiently with a well-rested mind. By the time Scott had arrived with a fresh serving of vole, she was already sound asleep.

* * *

 _..._

* * *

The doorknob slowly turned, and the door made an unwanted creak as Nutmeg slowly pushed it open. She grimaced; why did it have to make so much noise? The owl in the bed emitted a snore that made the uninvited guest flinch. The soldier was out cold, no doubt. Nutmeg just hoped she would stay that way.

Ever so quietly, she paced closer and closer to the unsuspecting youngling until she was right beside her, her sea green eyes wide open and locked onto the other owl's shut ones. She kept telling herself that the chance they would pop open and cause an alarm was extremely slim, but deep down, she knew that careful scrutiny of the younger owl's state of slumber was absolutely crucial for what she came to do.

Nutmeg scanned the owl over. Everything was so eerily similar to the child she'd lost; the color of her feathers, her proportions...her eye color. They were hidden now, but the owl already knew what the looked like, for she had seen them when the two were on the battlefield, struggling against the enemy. Intense azure, like the cloudless sky during the height of summer. That's what they were like...And that was what Ginger's eyes were like.

The only difference was how much bigger and more toned the young bird was compared to her long lost daughter. How long had it been since she disappeared? Ten months? A year, almost? Surely she would have grown some; maybe she had a growth spurt. And training for battle with this "Tytonic Union" organization Commander Scott informed her of, whatever it was, would certainly require enhanced physical fitness.

Still, there was the possibility she had never met this owl in her life until she came to her rescue, and it was all nothing more than a coincidence. But she had to know for sure.

 _Now, for the moment of truth,_ she said to herself.

With a shaky wing, Nutmeg reached out toward the metal mask concealing the Barn Owl's face, her mind ablaze with a strange mixture of hope and dread. She wasn't sure how she would react when she saw whatever could be underneath. If it was indeed her daughter, would she jump for joy at the fact Ginger was indeed alive and...sort of well? Would she be livid that she had fled her home and pursued such a dangerous occupation? Or would she be proud that she was dedicating herself to the safety and well-being of other birds by facing said danger? And if it wasn't her, would she be relieved she wasn't part of a fighting squadron, or disappointed that her daughter was still missing?

She barely pinched one of the spikes on the mask with her primaries, then slowly lifted it up, and up, and...

"Might I ask exactly what you're doing?"

Nutmeg nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping the mask back onto the sleeping owl's head. She swiveled her head towards the door to see Commander Scott standing in the now fully open doorway, looking unhappy. She backed into the corner of the room.

"You certainly are up late," she said to him, shooting the eagle a poisonous glare.

"So are you."

"I'm an owl. Your midnight is my midday. Now, how did you know I was here?"

"I came to check on the kid, and I noticed that the door was ajar. My question is, _why_ are you here?"

The Barn Owl sighed, then came towards the door and exited the room with the eagle, shutting it behind her.

"Alright," she told him, her voice even harsher than before. "I want to know the truth. Is that or is that not Gin-"

"I've already told you, ma'am, that's classified information," Scott interrupted, though without his usual rigid tone. "Why are you so hung up on the matter?"

"I _have_ to know."

"What happens if you don't know?"

"The same thing that happened to you, so I overheard one of the cadets say while we were all eating in the café. When you lost your family, you became distant, bitter and harsh. And that's exactly what I was until Emily came along. She helped-she helped a lot-but she's never going to replace the others. No matter how many kids you have, one will never replace another. And if I go on not knowing, I'll probably get like that all over again, with or without Emily. You got your family back, now I want to know if I get to have mine."

"Well, I...It's..."

Scott breathed in through his open beak, then closed it and let the air escape his nares with a growl.

"I made a promise," he responded. "That owl specifically requested that she remain anonymous."

"For what reason?"

"...That's classified. Now, I'm sorry to say, but we need to leave. The other patients in here won't be able to sleep with all this commotion. If you're not out within another minute, I'll have to escort you out myself"

"Oh, that's how it is, isn't it? You can't-"

"No, I cant, whatever 'it' is. Goodnight, ma'am."

Before Nutmeg could protest, the old eagle turned around, made his way to the infirmary exit and left. The mother owl simply stood there, her beak agape. She looked up at the clock on the wall above the main door; two in the morning. She heard the younger Barn Owl toss and turn behind the door, emitting a grunt as she shifted her position. It would be too risky to try again.

Nutmeg, however, wasn't one to give up so easily. She knew she had one last chance to find out before the owl in question left to go overseas. If the soldier wasn't leaving to go overseas until noon, she would still have a wingful of hours of time to find out.

 _All in good time,_ she reminded herself. _All in good time._


	15. Chapter 13: Someday

"I gotta say, your tracking skills are paying off, Phillip. If you can manage to sniff me down with nothing more than a feather for direction, who knows what you'll be able to accomplish back home?"

"Well, it wasn't just the feather in the rocks. The winds gave us an idea, too, and that part was Unk's idea."

"Yeah, you hear that, Unk? You weren't entirely useless!"

All the birds at the table except for the pit guardian burst out laughing, nearly loud enough for the entire mess hall to hear.

The A.F.F. had generously allowed both the travelling band of birds and the captives to share their morning meal. The Pure Ones and Macaws had all been very surprised at how much food was being offered, from a vast assortment of fruit to grilled rodents of all sorts. It was very different from what was done in the Beaks; you either ate what was given to you, which only differed by time and by day, or you went out and hunted yourself if you wanted something different. They considered such a form of dining a luxury, though they also reminded themselves not to indulge in such practices regularly. The eagles were more advanced, and therefore more stressed by their work than the Pure Ones, so they required more sustenance to get by.

"Oh, you crazy kids," Unk said with a semi-amused eye roll. "You know, someone like Stryker probably wouldn't take time to point out the little things."

"No, no, in all seriousness, Unk's right," Ginger reminded them all as she got the last few chuckles out of her system. "The High Tyto picked him for a reason."

"Yeah, plus he helped some of our families with the hatchlings back in the grove," Felipe added. "He's not bad with kids, you know?"

"Well, how else would he qualify for pit duty?" Uklah stated. "They don't just recruit anyone to keep track of a bunch of owlets running around like mice for half the day."

"Yeah, well, I'll tell you one thing, Unk."

Ginger leaned forward toward the horned owl and whispered.

"If you ever get assigned to watch over my brother, I can promise you he'll make up for twenty of your main owlets all by himself."

Once again, the entire table erupted with roaring laughter.

"Well," she continued. "He was good for one thing, I'll say that."

"What's that?" Caesar asked.

"He drove me out of the forest and into the sea, and my fellow Pure Ones carried me the rest of the way to the Beaks. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in the position I'm in today."

"Have you ever told him this?" Unk inquired.

"Yes, actually. The very day we reunited. Didn't last long; they took him right back to St. Aggies. I don't suppose you've been tending to him?"

"No, he's in Finny's pit, not mine. But Finny has some wild stories about him that she tells me whenever we meet for tea," he acknowledged while befittingly sipping the black tea he'd been served. "Says he has so much energy he could run from Shadow Forest to the Barrens and back and still have enough left in him to make it to Kuneer."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Unk felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to find himself face-to-face with another Barn Owl. Female, like Ginger, but more fair and much older.

"Is there an issue, ma'am? My apologies; the young ones tend to be a bit boisterous."

"Oh, no, no. It's just that all of the other tables are full and I happened to notice you had an empty seat, so I-"

"Oh, not a problem! Make yourself comfortable."

"Who's this? Friend of yours?" Phillip asked Ginger.

"Shut it," was her raspy response, and it worked on him when she coupled it with a soul-piercing death glare. She was very glad she had decided to wear her mask to breakfast, for it was this possible scenario that she feared the most.

Ginger watched as her mother sat down in the last empty seat, which just so happened to be right across from her. She wished Kludd had been there; then _he_ would have been filling that seat and _this_ wouldn't be happening.

"It might just be my stomach talking, but I think the rat they serve here is some of the best I've ever tasted," she commented.

"Meh. I've had better," Vaygar answered. "I think my mouse skewer is overdone."

"I thought you liked your meat raw," Uklah piped up.

"Yeah, I thought I'd mix things up for a change. Not one of my brighter ideas, I guess."

"I'm with Vaygar on this one. Don't tell the eagles I said this, but I swear, this tea tastes like rainwater."

"And my cantaloupe's sour," Mario added. "Yeah, I think they have that 'quality over quantity' thing backwards."

"So," Nutmeg said as she turned her gaze toward Ginger. "I overheard that you have a lightning bolt for a brother, is that the case?"

"Oh, absolutely," Unk replied, completely oblivious to the situation. "A friend of mine tells me that he once snatched a mouse tidbit from one of his other owlets in his pit, and he chased her brother like crazy all over the hollow, but no matter what he tried, he just couldn't catch him, so he had to get the adults."

"That much? You know I used to have a son like that. Pack of energy, he was. Always singing, always playing, always begging for someone to watch him, or do something with him. Attention hog, that's what my husband said."

"Oh, so you've got kids of your own, have you?" Unk replied. "I don't know if you overheard, but I work with them all the time. Love 'em. Don't think I'll ever have one of my own, though; I'm just an old bachelor."

"How many you got?" Caesar asked. It was a question that made Ginger want to wring his neck. She already hated the direction the conversation was headed.

"Used to have two. Now we're down to one."

"The other one move out?"

"Um...Well, no..."

There was a long pause before she continued.

"They...disappeared one day. My son not long after the other."

"Oh, that's terrible, ma'am," Unk sympathized. "What do you think could have happened to them?"

"Well, we first thought that our eldest left on her own accords. She knew how to fly already, and she'd just blown up at my husband over the other one. He followed a day later; stormy night, he could have been staring out the hollow entry looking to see if she'd come back, and was swept away by the wind. That's what we thought for a long time. But now that we know about these Shredders and how they've made off with dozens of other birds and their families over the past number of years, I'm beginning to have my doubts."

"Do you think they could still be alive somewhere?" Phillip wondered.

"Well, I can't say for sure," Nutmeg answered, stealing a brief glance at the owl across from her. "But I haven't lost all hope."

Ginger shuddered. Scott wasn't messing around when he said she was suspicious.

"At least you know your brother's alive," the owl continued. "What's his name? I'm curious."

"Pete."

She thought up the name in the spur of the moment, and it came out with the grumbly voice the owl used in the prison.

"Wait, I thought his name was-"

"Pete, Unk. His name is Pete," Ginger repeated, her eyes conveying for the Great Horned Owl to shut his beak. "Forgive him, ma'am. He's worked with so many owlets, he's always getting their names mixed up."

"Oh. I see."

Ginger tore a piece of her mouse off the bone with the tips of her claws and wedged it under her mask for her beak to grab.

"Don't you have another one?" Ginger asked.

"Yes I do; Emily. Me and my husband had her egg right after the others went missing. You'd probably be surprised at how much she can say for someone her age. I know I was."

"And how old is she?" Uklah asked her.

"Not even a year. My other two weren't speaking coherently until about three."

"Well, where's she at?" Ginger continued. "I would think she'd be wanting to be with you and her pops right about now, after all that just happened."

"Oh, she is with him. I was actually dining with them for a while, but I decided to hop on by for a few minutes and see what was up."

 _I'm sure you did._

"You should have seen the look on his face when he saw us alive; it's been a long time since I've seen Ethan look quite so happy."

"You sure they ain't missing you?"

"Oh, they'll be able to survive a few minutes without me in the room," she answered as she took in another beakful of rat, savoring the meat she'd been denied over the past several days.

"M-hm," Ginger grumbled, annoyed that she hadn't been able to get her to leave.

"Your two that went missing," Felipe, who was sitting beside Ginger, made a comment. "What were their na-"

As he spoke, the Barn Owl turned to face the macaw and emitted a dire hiss from her beak, not so loud as to alert the entire mess hall, but enough to drown out Felipe's words. Her neighbor was taken aback; at no point in his life had he seen a bird's eyes filled with such a strange combination of intense fear, desperate pleading and sheer rage.

"Did you say something?" Nutmeg looked up from the rat she'd been indulging in, barely having noticed the hiss.

"Um..."

Ginger was silent now, but her eyes were still fixed on him in that deadly stare.

"Nothing important..."

"Hm."

Nutmeg shrugged and continued eating. Felipe conveyed his confusion to the masked owl with an odd facial expression, which she acknowledged, but refused to respond to.

"I'm taking the rest of my mouse to go and I'll see if I can catch a few more winks," Ginger announced, getting up from her seat and patting down the bandages on her abdomen. "Gotta be in top condition for the flight."

She left the cafeteria with haste. Her fellow Pure Ones were confused; why was she acting so strangely around this other Barn Owl?

"What's her problem?" Caesar finally said.

"Perhaps she's just nervous about all the association with the outside we've been getting," Unk replied, careful not to name any names. "Maybe she doesn't want anyone she could have known to follow us back."

"Yeah," the parrot replied. "Maybe..."

"Well, I guess I'll be heading out, too," Nutmeg mumbled as she scraped the last of the meat off the bones with her beak. "It was very nice you meet all of you."

"And to you as well. Take care, madam. And I wish you the best of luck with your young one."

"Thank you, sir."

Nutmeg arose and exited the room more slowly than the other owl had.

"Pete, indeed," Unk retorted. "Almost every owlet in Finny's pit knows Felix, and they know much more than just his name."

"I know, right?" Vaygar responded. "I mean, I get that we're not supposed to give away too much info on the Owl Kingdoms, but that was just weird the way she handled it."

"No doubt," Uklah answered him. "She wasn't like this around the eagles. Why, of all birds, would she be put off by her own kind?"

"You know, it might just be me, but I couldn't help but notice how much that owl looked like Ginger in the face," Phillip noted.

"You're a perceptive young owl, aren't you, Phillip?" Unk said to him. "Yes, you're right. She did, didn't she?"

"The only real differences were the age, the eyes and the feather tone...Okay, that's still quite a bit of a difference, but still," Uklah added. "You don't think the two of them are related somehow, do you?"

"Well, then, maybe that's why she was actin' so strange," Mario concluded. "She doesn't want her family to know where she's at."

"Didn't she say that she grew up not far from here?" Phillip noted. "And...didn't that owl say she had two owlets go missing?"

"An older daughter and a younger son..." The realization dawned on Felipe as he said the last two words in a hushed whisper. "Yo, you don't think that was her..."

"Could be," Unk answered him.

"Wow...Do you think we should say something to her?"

"Not a good idea," Unk declined. "Can you imagine how dear Ginger would react?"

"She'd probably kill us all," Uklah replied, only somewhat jokingly. "And she's good at stuff like that, so it's not worth the risk."

"Well, I need to yarp," Vaygar stated, quite informally. "I'll be outside."

"Yeah, I think I'll head on out, too," Felipe added. "Do they take care of the mess for us?"

"Oh, don't be so underbred, young sir. Clean up after yourself."

"Gee whiz, sorry, Mr. Daintyman. May I dust your petticoat for you while I'm at it?"

"Sir!"

Unk's exclamation was almost completely drowned out by the laughter that followed.

* * *

 _..._

* * *

The cool breeze began to pick up, and it shifted to the west, carrying several brown and scarlet leaves with it through the air. Winter was on its way here in the states, but right now in the Owl Kingdoms, the blossoms on the fruit trees were in full bloom, and the wild flowers on Cape Glaux were stretching as far as the eye could see. While Chatham was getting snowed in, the Kingdoms would be verdant and warm. It was strange, Ginger thought, that it would be Autumn in the Northern half of the world the same time the Southern half was in Spring, and vice-versa.

Spring and autumn; the two most beautiful times of year, occurring at the same time. As tempered as her spirit was, the young Barn Owl still appreciated just how beautiful nature was. Here, far enough from the A.F.F. base, far from the city smells, just beyond the edge of the woods, was one of the best places she'd been in a while.

She couldn't wait to return to the Owl Kingdoms, where everything was just as beautiful, if not more so, and even more wild and free.

"General."

Ginger jumped and swiveled her head around to see old Commander Scott perched on one of the branches behind her.

"Oh, it's you." she sighed. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Not too long," he replied.

"You know, for an eagle, you sure fly quietly."

The eagle let out a small huff of a laugh. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, owls, you know...Silent fliers. You, though. Never heard you fly in. That must take a lot of skill for an eagle to pull off."

"Oh, really, sugar cube? I'm a noisy flyer, and you didn't hear me fly in, either. You sure you weren't in some sort of daze?"

Ginger didn't recognize the voice. She looked above the Commander and spotted another eagle. Female, and thinner than Scott, but about the same age.

"I suppose you haven't met my mate, Skye?"

"It's a pleasure," Scott's significant other alighted onto Ginger's branch and warmly shook the owl's wing in her own. "Scott told me all about you yesterday and the day before. I think I saw you in the underground, but I never got the chance to speak with you until now."

"You're Skye? His long-lost mate?"

"Ha, yeah. Hey, how'd you know she was long-lost, eh?" Scott questioned.

"Don't get mad. Silvia told me everything while I was in the aerie."

"Oh, really? Well, can't say I'm surprised. She can't keep her beak shut, can she?"

"I haven't seen much worse, I'll say that!"

"She's a freakin' chicken!" Skye hooted. "What do you expect!?"

The three birds cackled so loud that they could be heard from the base, and they laughed for so long that their stomachs ached when they finally finished.

"She's alright, though, isn't she?" Ginger admitted.

"She does her job, kid," Scott replied. Nobody said anything else for a few moments.

"Are you gonna ask her?" Skye finally said.

"Skye, she's right here, you know. She can hear you..."

"Ask me what?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's not important. You'd probably say no, anyway."

"Why would I?"

"Well..." The commander sighed; he had no idea how the owl would take the carried request.

"Oh, boy...Mr. Wingren...you know, your, heh...unsuspecting _dad_ wanted to thank you personally, since you assisted in the rescue of his wife and daughter, as well as so many other birds. As far as I know, Nutmeg hasn't broken her suspicions to him yet, so if you wanted to see them one last time before you left, then..."

Ginger stood very still on her branch, evaluating her options. Finally, she breathed heavily.

"As long as Nutmeg isn't there."

"Fair enough. Follow us; we'll escort you to him."

It wasn't as long a flight as she'd expected. The twenty minutes in the air served as a stark reminder of just how close she was to the people she would last want to know of her position.

The two eagles perched just above the hollow; the branch jutting out just below the entry way, the one she grew up with, first took flight off of, and dragged Felix off of the night before she left, was broken off; perhaps it had been torn away with her brother the stormy night he disappeared. Ginger, believing she would never grow used to this change, tried to alight on the short, spiky protrusion, just outside the hollow; she barely had enough space between the open air and the tree trunk to land.

There, in the middle of the single room that made up the Wingren household stood both her father and younger sister. Both looked exhausted and thin, but their physical frailty was nothing compared to the joy and relief the general saw shining through their eyes. Nonetheless, she could also tell that they were completely oblivious to just who was standing before them.

"It's nice to make your acquaintance, General," Ethan greeted with an extended wing. "May I call you that? Mr. Scott said that your true name was classified, so I didn't know if you went by that."

"No. 'General' is fine," Ginger approved, meeting his outstretched wing with her own and giving it a firm shake. She had given her voice the same gruff tone again to disguise it.

"Haha. You're...Shorter than I pictured. Oh, um-No offense, ma'am. My apologies, I shouldn't have-"

"Not a problem," she interrupted. "I'm younger than a lot of birds think, too, so that's probably why. But I'll get bigger. And when I do I'll scare my enemies splatless. Besides, small size means less weight, which means more speed."

"Huh...I suppose you're right. Well, anyway, we just wanted to thank you for what you did out there the other day. My daughter here says that you personally escorted her to safety. Is this true?"

"Yes."

"Well, I...If you hadn't been there with her, I don't know who would have, or...if anyone would have been there to do that."

"It's all in a day's work, Mr. Wingren."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a private meeting going on in there!"

Ginger heard Scott's voice from outside, and she simply had to turn her head to see what was going on. She saw the two eagles trying to block off the entryway, and from the spaces in the couple's feathers, she saw what looked to be...

"Now I'm not allowed to enter my own home? What is this? A dictatorship? I thought you eagles were trying to fight against those!"

"Wait, ain't you the Barn Owl from the prison?"

"Oh, no," Ginger said aloud.

Ethan marched to the hollow entry to try and reason with everyone, and Ginger stepped closer to the back of the hollow.

"I'm confused," Emily whined.

"So am I."

"...What does 'classified' mean?"

"If something is classified, it means you're not allowed to know it. It's forbidden knowledge. We call that 'spronk' where I'm from."

"Oh..."

Ginger couldn't really tell in the tiny owlet knew half of what she'd just said. But she seemed smart for her age, so she decided not to worry about it.

"...'Sponk' sounds like a bad word."

Ginger let out a small breath of a laugh at her mispronunciation.

"Well, where I'm from, it's actually quite close to one. But don't worry; it's not."

"Okay."

Don't worry. Right now, there were...other things to worry about. The scuffle outside the hollow had finally died down, and it looked like the four birds had come to some sort of agreement.

"Alright, fine. You can come in, Mrs. Wingren. The general's flight is about to leave, anyway, so she won't get in your way."

"Just...Don't get in hers, either. I hear she's a little unpredictable."

"...Fair enough."

Just as Ginger had feared, yet also anticipated, Nutmeg was let into the hollow.

"Oh. Hello."

Nutmeg tried to give off a look of surprise in her eyes, as though to convey that she didn't know the masked owl would be there, but Ginger could tell that it wasn't genuine.

"I wasn't expecting all of that to happen," she said as she came in. "Well, it's over now, so I guess it doesn't matter."

Now Ginger's fear began to simmer into irritation at her mother's blatant dishonesty and innocent farce. She knew she was up to something, and the general decided that it was about time she gave her a piece of her mind, family or not.

"You followed us here, didn't you?"

Nutmeg now displayed a real look of surprise on her face.

"You think I wouldn't notice? I've been here for less than one minute and you decide to show up at this _particular_ time. Hard to believe that's just some coincidence."

Nutmeg opened her beak as though to say something in her defense, but all that escaped was a small sigh.

"That's what I thought," Ginger finished. "Do you know just how dangerous it could be if you had any of my personal information?"

"Oh, come on, how bad could-"

"Extremely. You let your tongue slip once and the whole nation could be put in jeopardy. Or worse."

"Worse?"

"The _world._ "

"...Oh my."

Nutmeg stepped back, and her mate and youngest joined her at her side.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, General. I didn't know..."

"Well, now you do." Ginger answered more calmly, but there was still a prick of annoyance in her eyes. "Now, I need to go; my comrades are waiting."

"Oh...Yes."

A wave of regret instantly washed over the young Barn Owl. Despite the situation, the last thing she wanted was to leave on bad terms with her family.

"Don't take it personally," she said with a sigh. "The business can be a bit of a burden sometimes."

Nutmeg was the one to sigh now, more heavily than her daughter.

"No, I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have tracked you back here on the sly."

"I don't mean to probe, but is there a reason you're doing what you're doing, Mrs. Wingren?"

Ginger already knew the answer, but she feared that if she didn't ask, it would arouse even more suspicions.

"Well, I guess my curiosity was peaked. And you have such a mysterious aura surrounding you, I...Alright, I'll come clean. It's because I think you're...Someone I know. Or used to know. But...At this point, I guess not. You don't even know my first name, probably."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wingren, for your honesty. Now, it's about time for me to head out," Ginger said, reaching her wing out for a shake.

"...You're welcome, General. And thank you for stopping buy."

Nutmeg gladly met her halfway.

 _But, just in case..._

Seemingly out of the blue, upon grasping the other owl's primaries, Nutmeg pulled the general up to her with a swift tug and wrapped her giant wings around her, nearly lifting the receiver right off of her talons. Ginger tensed up; she was without words, and wasn't even sure of what just happened for a moment.

When she finally comprehended what was going on, she was even more speechless. The only way she responded was by returning the favor. A defeated sigh escaped her nares; Ginger sensed that, deep down, she knew.

Ginger shut her eyes tightly. She didn't like crying; it was a pointless, almost impossible-to-control bodily mechanism that did nothing but display weakness. Ginger was a tempered individual; always ready for her next fight, and always training harder to win. She had defeated now a great deal of birds in combat, quite a few with relative ease.

Why was it that she could fight back an entire fleet of Shredders within less than a minute, yet found it so hard to fight back the urge to wail, to bawl, to howl like a wolf that had just lost her pup, to let a river of tears escape her already watery eyes, to let herself collapse into her mother's embrace and tell everybody everything, no matter what the consequences turned out to be...

Why was it so stupidly hard?

Nutmeg finally let go of the general, who was quick to try and regain her stoic act upon her release. Still, she had begun to blush so hard the pink showed right through her white facial feathers.

"Right...Well...I guess we'd better be going."

Ginger turned around, headed outside and readied her takeoff.

"Good luck on your flight home, General," Nutmeg told her.

"Will do, ma'am. You have nothing to worry."

"I hope we get the chance to...meet again someday?"

Ginger paused. Someday...The day she came of age, her parents wouldn't have any say over what she did anymore, nor could they strip her away from the Union she was tied to. Someday when she had a family, complete with a handsome mate and owlets of her own to show off. Someday, when she returned from the frontlines carrying victory in her wake and talked with everyone about her great feats in battle. Someday.

That would be the day she would either return to this place or send for her parents to come to the Kingdoms themselves. That would be the day she would make amends. That would be the day she would make her family proud. That would be the day...

...Someday.

"We will. I'll promise you that."

Nutmeg didn't reply, rather she gave a smile.

"All of you take care of yourselves, you hear?"

"Will do, General," Ethan promised. "And thanks again."

"Bye-bye," Emily squeaked.

"Good luck out there," her mother finally said.

"I'll see you again someday...Nutmeg."

Having finished her business, Ginger thrust herself forward out the hollow, spread her wings and took off towards the shore. The two eagles gave the Barn Owls inside a nod goodbye and followed after the masked youth.

"Guess she did know your first name, after all," Ethan remarked.

"Hmh...It appears that way."

"You know, now that I think about it," he continued. "She reminded me a lot of..."

He trailed off, seeming hesitant to complete his sentence for the sake of his wife. He didn't expect her to see right through to his head.

"Our eldest?"

"Is that who you thought she was?"

"For a while. It was probably all in my head, though."

"Oh, boy. Well, I wouldn't say that. She did bare some resemblance to her in stature and color."

"She even had the same eyes."

"You noticed that too, did you? Huh...You don't think that she was actually..."

A long, uncomfortable silence reigned throughout the hollow for what seemed like an eternity.

"I can't tell you for sure, Ethan," the mother owl replied. "But I will say this."

"What?"

"She promised that she would come back."

"When?"

"Oh...Someday."

"Someday?"

"That's right. And when she does, maybe, just maybe, she'll finally let us see what's underneath that imposing mask she always wears."

"Well, we can always wonder about that."

"She'd look like us, wouldn't she?" Emily piped up.

"Well, to an extent," Nutmeg answered the owlet. "She's a Barn Owl, so she would look similar to us."

 _If not more than just similar,_ she added in her head.

"I've got...sort of a weird question for you, Ethan."

"Lay it on me."

"Let's just say, hypothetically, that that owl...really was who we thought. How would you react?"

"I..."

He thought for a moment. To find out that his daughter was alive, yet barely escaping the clutches of death day to day doing what she called "a day's work." Knowing she had devoted herself to a noble cause, yet had deserted the family that had raised her to risk her life, knowing how big a burden it would be on them if they ever caught wind of her demise.

"I think I'd have...mixed feelings about that. Let's just put it at that, alright? I don't want this to turn sour."

"Neither do I. But you know something?"

"What?"

"I'd feel the same way."

Ethan let out a heavy sigh. It wasn't pleasant to think about such things. Besides, he knew that dwelling on the past would bring nothing but sorrow to the family.

"At least we have Emily now," he reminded her. "It's nice that we managed to have ourselves another one, isn't it?"

"Children can never be replaced..."

"No, no they can't."

"But more can always fill that hole just a little bit, can't they?"

"I suppose you're right. Well, it's just about midday. What's say we hit the nest for the day?"

"My thoughts exactly; I need a break after all of what just happened, don't you?"

* * *

 _..._

* * *

"You're positive you don't need one more day of recuperation, Ging'? We could always hang back one more day; it's not a problem."

"No, I'll be fine this time around. Besides, the longer we wait, the more impatient the monarchs will get- _and_ the two you left on that island, for that matter. Glaux knows what they've been doing the past several days. We're already behind schedule as it is, so keeping them waiting isn't the best idea."

"But-"

"I don't want to have to repeat myself, Phillip."

"...Yes, General."

"Don't worry about me."

Phillip marveled at Ginger's selflessness; a true leader, no doubt, but he knew that didn't mean nobody else should consider her well-being. Upon her return to the base, she had immediately ordered the preparation for the flight back to the Owl Kingdoms, seeming more impatient than ever to leave. Phillip wondered where she'd been and what she'd been doing for the past hour, sensing that she had an unfavorable experience while away.

 _And I thought the episode at breakfast was weird._ he said to himself. But, then again, if the theory they'd all concocted after she'd left was true, they couldn't really blame her.

"Everybody accounted for? Everybody in top flying condition, not counting me?" she called as she scanned over the band of feathered explorers.

"Vaygar, you're good. Phillip, you're good. Unk, you're good. Macaw brothers, Aloiso, good. Uklah...What's that?"

"What, this? World map; thought I would bring it along with us to help navigate our way back. Commander Scott gave it to me. Said we might need it more than he did."

"Oh..."

Was that the same map that Silvia had shown her during her stay at the aerie? Perhaps the eagle had more a reason to give the map than just a travel aid.

"Uh...Speaking of which, Uklah, do you know where he and Skye went? They followed me back here a ways, but I think they branched off into a different path at some point."

"Not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say the Commander's back inside the base. He's a busy bird, eh?"

"No joke."

"Need him for something?"

"No, I just wanted to give him a final farewell. And..."

"And what?"

"Uklah, I want to tell you something; an idea I had. Promise you won't go yoiks?"

"Why would I do that?"

"I thought that maybe...we could form some sort of tie with the A.F.F. I've seen what kind of technology they wield in battle, and it's strong. Like, really strong. More advanced that any crossbow of battleclaws I've ever laid eyes on. If we got our hands on weapons like theirs, we could probably destroy the Great Tree is one night!"

"That's incredible!" Uklah exclaimed, beaming.

"But using said technology also raises my concerns. There's no doubt that if we used it in the Owl Kingdoms, the Guardians would get their grubby wings on the weaponry and its workings at some point. And weapons of such destruction could be dangerous to the Owl Kingdoms themselves in the wrong talons."

"Oh. That's...not so incredible."

"Oh, what am I doing? I should be telling the Commander all this, not you!"

"You alright, General? You seem...uptight."

"I assure you, soldier, I am perfectly cool, calm and collected, and absolutely nothing is bothering me!"

Ginger flew away in a huff before Uklah could even think of a proper reply, aiming for the base. She flew just over the low building, then, by stooping into a steep bank, she spiraled to the doors of the base, not bothering to slow her flight, and skidded across the ground to a halt just inches away from the entry.

" _State your business,_ " she heard an unfamiliar voice coming from the speaker by the door announce.

" _Open the door; I know her._ " Scott's voice sounded just after the first.

The metal door made a harsh mechanical whirr as it opened, and the Barn Owl was granted access. She stepped into the facility, and was almost immediately greeted by the old eagle, his mate still along side him.

"Finally found us, didja?" she teased.

"Yes...Commander, I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Something else the matter?"

"Not...necessarily. I just wanted to hear your say on...something I had in mind."

"Well, spill the beans, kiddo, what's up?" Skye asked her.

"Erm...Alone, sir. No offence, ma'am; this is professional."

"Oh. Well, if it's that important, I won't be a bother."

"We can discuss this in my office. Come with me. Skye, make sure Beth's holdin' up alright?"

"I'll see to her."

Skye left them to tend to their eaglet, then the Commander lead Ginger back to his private quarters; this time, however, Ginger was the one to be giving out the questions.

"Alright, kid, tell me what's on your mind."

"Yes. I was thinking that...You know how I told you about the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones?"

"That's your little assembly, right?"

"Yeah, ah...well, 'little' isn't exactly the right word."

"How big is it, then?"

"Well, we're...pretty high in numbers. Our total number of official members was pushing two thousand, last time I checked. And our influence is widespread; we have authoritarian control over all of the Beaks, most of Tyto Forest and about half of the Forest of Ambala."

"Oh...wow."

"Yeah. B-but like I said, we're not a dictatorship! We're more like, sort of a modern monarchy."

"I'm following."

"And...well...I was wondering if maybe you would be...willing to form some sort of...loose alliance with us?"

"With the Tytonic Union?"

"Yes. You know, the reason me and the rest of my crew came out here in the first place was to form ties with the Macaws down in the Amazon."

"The Amazon? As in, the Amazon rainforest?"

"Yes."

"In South America?"

"Yes. Brazil, to be more precise. I know what you're thinking; we've had our fair share of travel for the past few weeks."

"Heh...No kidding. As for your request...You said a 'loose' alliance...What exactly do you mean by this?"

"I did have one concern; the Tytonic Union and its global position rests on a very delicate balance, and the further we stay out wandering the Americas, or anywhere outside of our country borders, for that matter, the more we risk...being discovered, by the humans. Plus, You and the A.F.F. I thought we could utilize some of your more advanced technology for the sake of preserving the Union, but...I'm afraid that if we rely on it too much-on the A.F.F. too much-that it would cause tension between us. Such a strong alliance could be as fatal for the Tytonic Union as it could be helpful, if not more so."

"Advanced?"

"Our weaponry is a bit...primeval. Battleclaws have been around for pushing five millennia, according to all of the history books, and...armed claw-to-claw combat is still the primary form of battle between owls. We're not anywhere near as advanced as the humans; no guns, no grenades, no tracking technology, nothing like that. Heck, our most recent weaponry advancement so far is wielding flaming branches to try and set the enemy on fire. I mean, our fighting methods aren't garbage by any means, but...yours. They hold so much power, it's intimidating."

"Hm...Well, there's an old saying that goes, 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"Yeah. I see what you mean."

"I have an idea. Why don't I send over a couple of representatives to tag along with you on your trip back? If they and the Union leaders can work something out, I'll request a meeting with the, uh...King? You said it was a monarchy, right?"

"His official title is 'High Tyto,' but yes. It's essentially the same thing."

"Ah, okay."

"That...sounds like a plan! How long will it take to alert your representatives? We're leaving here pretty soon."

"They'll need to travel lightly, but I'll have them bring some papers and whatnot. I hope you know the way back well enough? Since you're trying to stay concealed from the rest of the world, I don't think it wise to use any sort of GPS."

"We can provide your birds with maps upon their arrival. As for the trip there, everything should go fine, granted we avoid rough weather."

"Alright. I'll gather my best birds for the job."

"Great. I'll oversee the preparation for our departure; everyone's probably missing me. And..."

"What?"

"Thank you, sir. For doing this."

"Not a problem."

The two birds extended their wings in a firm shake.

"And...for everything else you did. Before."

The eagle didn't say anything more, but responded with a pleased nod.

"Go on, now. They're waiting."

The owl turned tail and hurried out of the office to reunite with her fellow owls. The eagle sat back down at his desk, and saw his mate enter.

"How'd everything turn out?" she questioned.

"Good, good. We worked something out."

"I like her. She's got a lot of spirit."

"You don't say. Maybe one day, she could fight in a militia?"

"Ha...you really haven't changed a bit, have you?"


	16. Chapter 14: Leaving Home for Home

"Everybody accounted for? Alright, everybody, get into position! That's it, perfect! Now, quick check, let me make sure we have everyone."

She glossed over her fleet of owls, having to remind herself twice that Kludd was back with Nigel on the island. All of the macaws(including the ever-silent Aliosio) were present as well, along with the two representative eagles Scott had decided to send with them.

"Your names again?" she questioned them.

"Ace, and he's Luke."

The eagle who'd addressed the two was substantially older than the latter, perhaps older then the Commander himself, and was particularly large, even for an eagle. Luke, on the other hand, was somewhat shorter, possessed a slender build, and was a great deal younger.

"Right, got it."

"So, tell me something," the younger eagle inquired. "Is this guy always this deathly quiet?"

"I have yet to actually hear what his voice sounds like."

"...Weird."

"You're not the only one who thinks so. But he's not going to be any trouble, I can assure you."

Everything and everyone was accounted for, and everyone was ready and rearing to leave. It wouldn't be long now before she finally set foot back on the rocky terrain of the Kingdom of the Beaks she so dearly missed.

Still, there was one last detour they had to take before making the longshot back to the Union.

"What route do you suppose we take, Unk? You were the one who lead all of the others here."

"Me? Oh, well...If you want my input, I suggest we do exactly what I did to get everybody here, but backwards. We cut across Panama, use our time there as extra preparation for the big flight, then we make a clear shot for the island, make one more pitstop, then make it the rest of the way to the Owl Kingdoms from there."

"How do you suppose Kludd and Nigel are holding up?"

"I'm sure they're doing just fine, my dear. It's only been a few days; far less time than we anticipated. I'm sure that Kludd especially will be excited to see us return so soon. And with you in tow!"

"'In tow?' I'm flying up front, Unk; I'm the General?"

"But who was the one who put me in charge, Ginger?"

She let out a groan of defeat.

"The king."

"That's absolutely right. I propose you take the middle of the formation; this way, if for some reason your wings decide to stop working again, we can form a krokenbot to keep you afloat."

"I don't know if that will be necessary, Unk..."

"Oh, pish. After all that just occurred, I say we best not take the risk."

"Fine...Anyway, is everybody ready!?"

She earned a series of positive remarks from her peers.

"Alright then! Formation!"

The troops got into position, Vaygar, Uklah, Phillip and Felipe forming a diamond around the General in the case of an accident. The vast ocean was dead ahead.

"Takeoff!"

The birds spread their wings and headed out, leaving the land and crossing over the blue waters. The owl looked back at the land she was leaving behind for the second time. There was Commander Scott, watching proudly, and there was his mate, and his daughter.

The whole family, finally whole again.

"Just wanted to see you fellas take off!" he called out. "We'll be seeing' you, ya hear, kid!?"

Ginger replied with a victorious shree. She turned her head forward again, and then, quite suddenly, she decided that she wanted just one last look before they disappeared, so she turned her head around one more time. They were still standing there, and with...

Was that...Her mother standing behind them?

So, she came to see us leave, too, huh?

She saw another Barn Owl step forward. And a smaller one after them.

Her whole family had come to see it, too.

She couldn't quite tell, but she could have sworn she saw Nutmeg nod at her as she continued to fly away. It almost made her want to turn around, and give them all one last goodbye.

But she couldn't, and she wouldn't. So all she did was nod back before turning her gaze ahead once more, and keeping her eyes fixed tightly on the blue seascape ahead.

 _Until next time, dear family,_ she whispered to them in her mind. _Until next time._

* * *

…

* * *

"I'm going to lose my mind if they're not back anytime soon."

"Lighten up, chap. They'll be back one of these days; if those birds could get all the way to the Amazon from where they're situated, they don't have much in their way. Besides, they said two weeks or less. Have a little patience, boy."

"I'd expected you to be a lot more worried."

"And I didn't expect you to be so hung up on this. I know I'm not exactly chi, but let me tell you something, boy; sometimes bad things happen to people, but you just gotta keep moving ahead."

"How am I gonna move ahead like that if...Besides, you know, It's probably my fault. I should have been there when she was swept away. I knew what had happened between her and the human. I knew she wasn't coming clean about her wing. I just thought that since she never-"

"You love her, don't you?"

The remark was enough to make the Barn Owl go completely silent.

"I can tell, you know," the cockatoo continued. "It's pretty obvious, actually; almost too obvious. The way you talk about her, how you go on and on about what you would do to yourself if they come back with 'the news,' the way you reminisce about the first time you two met, and how awkward it was."

Kludd didn't give him a verbal answer.

"She is a good bird; she even helped me open my eyes to a few things. But putting yourself down over the loss of one comrade; is it really all that worth it?"

"You don't understand."

"I can't say I object to that, either. I've never had anyone like that in my life."

"What about that frog?"

"Oh, believe me; that whole thing was completely one-sided. I was never interested in finding love, so I can't exactly empathize. But still; I've lost a lot of things besides that; my career, my dignity...my flight, even. But am I sitting around like a bum lamenting it? No, because I remind myself of what I still have; you fellas are takin' me to this Beaks place so I can live there in peace instead of chasing down petty revenge for the rest of my life. Besides, if I can make myself useful in anyway, count me in. And in good time, I'll be in the sky again. Even when it seems like your entire life has crumbled into bits and pieces, you can always find a way to rebuild it, either by gluing what's broken back together or finding new parts to replace whatever you can't."

Kludd opened his beak to say something, but the words dissipated when he heard what sounded like another Barn Owl's screech.

"...You catch that?"

"Catch what?"

It sounded again, and this time, Kludd could hear faint mumbling follow. Was that...

No. They couldn't be back already. They'd given themselves a whole two weeks. They couldn't have come across anything yet...could they?

And if they'd returned this soon, it had to mean that something had happened, or they had discovered something...less than favorable. He had to have been hearing things...

No...he wasn't. He could see the dark images of birds hovering over the horizon, growing ever more prominent. And unlike the cockatoo, his sensitive ears could make out everything, from the distant wing beats to the mutters of the conversation. And it wasn't long before the voices were completely eligible.

"I hope everything's gone alright so far."

Unk; no doubt.

"You don't really think he'd have done something like that, do you?"

Vaygar.

"Not if he has half a brain...But then again, I'm not entirely convinced of that myself..."

Uklah. Same as ever; she always thought he was a birdbrain.

Not good. He only feared the worst if they really were back this early. The most horrible thought that came to his mind was that they'd found her body floating somewhere in the open sea; a thought that nearly made him yarp a pellet right then and there.

"We told them two weeks; isn't it good that we're back so soon?"

Phillip sounded worried. This was getting worse every second.

"Besides, that ol' Nigel guy's there to keep an eye on him, right?"

"Yeah, that bird's like a brawler, or somethin' like that."

"I thought that was fat..."

"Nope. Muscle. I can tell."

"But he can't even fly; how's he gonna keep up with that kid?"

"Ah...good question."

The macaw brothers having a conversation about them. But they were oblivious to the fact that he could hear their banter.

"You seem nervous...I know a lot went on in the states, but...is something else on your mind?" Phillip asked someone.

"I...just hope nothing went wrong, that's all."

Wait.

Was that...

"I think if he sees that we're back so soon, he'll be ecstatic."

"If he's there."

No mistake.

It was her.

Kludd raced to the shore and ascended into a takeoff just before his feet could hit the water, taking the cockatoo by complete surprise.

"Hey! Wh-what are you doing!? Don't you try anything stupid! I'll have your head, and they'll have mine!"

Kludd didn't even hear him; he was too busy heading out to meet them all.

Nigel rose a wing over his eyes to see just what he was flying towards, and the faint images of a flock of birds came into the view of his inferior eyes.

Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle...

"I'm here!" Kludd called, ever swiftly approaching the other Barn Owl. Ginger would have been more excited to meet him if it hadn't looked as though he was about to crash into her head on.

"Kludd, wait! We need to la-"

But instead of causing a collision, the young fighter dove underneath her, then shot back up and around her, emitting hysterically joyous laughter and trying ever so hard to keep tears from flowing along with it. Ginger couldn't help herself; she left her position in the flight arrangement to join him, and the two Barn Owls followed each other across the sky, diving, soaring, spinning, laughing. Kludd more relieved, more amazed, more happy. She was alive.

And so was he.

And when they two landed on the island again, Kludd realized that he had a multitude of questions he had to ask her.

"Wh-what happened? Where did you go!? And...Who are the eagles?"

"I'll explain everything when we get back to the Beaks, okay?" she responded. "Right now, I just want to get this whole thing over with."

Kludd was still breathing heavily, and as swift as he'd gone to greet her, he flung his wings around her, much to her surprise.

"I...thought I was never gonna see you again."

His intonation made it hard to tell whether he was laughing or crying.

"Ah...too close, Kludd," she said to him, trying to free her pinned wings. "But...I thought the same for a while myself,"

"Sorry...I'm just...so glad you're back here again."

"Everything's under control, now. Trust me."

"Good, good."

"So, guys."

She turned to the rest of her camaraderie, whom had also landed on the island.

"I guess we grab one more meal before we set off and then its homeward bound?"

"Sounds like a good plan to me, dear Ginger," Unk replied, and they were met with a series of agreements from everyone else.

Everything was as it should be.

It didn't seem to take long for everyone to refuel for the remainder of the journey. The only issue now was how Nigel should be taken care of.

"I've got an idea," Ginger proposed to her fellow owls after some debate. "You know how you formed a krokenbot for me to transport me here?"

"Even with aid, these wings are probably about as good at keeping me airborne as wet paper," the cockatoo drawled sarcastically.

"Well, how about instead of only four birds, we try eight? This will double the air being pushed upward, and in turn, double the support needed to keep one aloft."

"I...suppose we could try that," Nigel agreed, stretching his wings and displaying the tattered flight feathers. Despite being badly damaged, most of them were at least still in one piece, and he'd see if the krokenbot would allow them to work again soon enough.

But Unk insisted that Ginger fly along side him inside the formation; no more risks were to be taken with her.

"Alright, birds, come along! I'm going to see how to arrange this!"

Unk ended up positioning the four Trainee Tytos around them, similarly to the first formation, and then Felipe and Mario worked within the bottom lines of the rhombus while the two eagles were positioned on the top of it.

They started in the middle of the island, in the case that something may go awry with the cockatoo's flight early on, so that he wouldn't immediately plummet into the water.

"Alright, birds!" the pit guardian hollered. "We're clear for takeoff! Now, let me call role so we make absolutely sure no-one is left behind!"

Luke.

Ace.

Aloisio.

Caesar.

Mario.

Felipe.

Nigel.

Uklah.

Phillip.

Vaygar.

Kludd.

And Ginger.

Everyone was there.

Everyone was ready.

"Now! Let's move out!"

The formation took flight. The cockatoo was surprised to find that the support of the krokenbot seemed to have almost completely restored his flight capabilities, but the risk of causing an upset in the airflow made him resist the urge to flaunt his skills.

Ginger's mind was at ease; they were finally going home. And soon enough, they would be planting their feet on the black-sanded shores of the land of rocky spires she called home.

 _Home..._

It was so close. Yet at the same time, so far behind her.

Behind was her old spruce tree, inhabited by the parents that had raised her, and whom she'd long abandoned, along the sibling she never got to know.

Ahead was her stone hollow in the great spire that was the Pure One palace, inhabited by the monarchs that were training her, and who saw her as one of their most valued members.

And right there with her were her friends; her fellow Tytos-in-Training, and the macaws she'd grown acquainted with, and two of the eagles that had been sent by the trusted Commander Scott to study the Union.

It seemed to her that 'home' was wherever the ones closest to you were. It was wherever one's family was.

And, knowing this, she felt right at home.


	17. About the Characters

**GINGER** : Barn Owl, _Tyto Alba_ , raised in a spruce tree near Chatham, Georgia. Left home at a very young age due to escape her younger brother's troublesome antics, fond and rescued by the Pure Ones, now among their ranks.

 **FAMILY:**

 **ETHAN** : Father  
 **NUTMEG** : Mother  
 **FELIX** : Younger Brother  
 **EMILY** : Younger Sister

* * *

THE PURE ONES

* * *

 **NYRA** : Barn Owl, _Tyto Alba_ , Queen of the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones, mate of the High Tyto Metal Beak and commander of the Trainee Owls.

 **METAL BEAK** : Greater Sooty Owl, _Tyto Tenebricosa_ , High Tyto, founder, leader and king of the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones, Nyra's mate.

 **JATT** : Long-Eared Owl, _Asio Otus_ , Pure One and St. Aggies patrol, cousin of Jutt.

 **JUTT** : Long-Eared Owl, _Asio Otus_ , Pure One and St. Aggies patrol, cousin of Jatt.

 **VALDIMORE** : Eurasian Eagle Owl, _Bubo Bubo_ , leader of the Slipgizzle Chaw for the Tytonic Union.

 **KLUDD** : Barn Owl, _Tyto Alba_ , member of the Trainee Owls, best fighter of the five.

 **VAYGAR** : African Grass Owl, _Tyto Capensis_ , member of the Trainee Owls, best navigator of the five.

 **PHILLIP** : Greater Sooty Owl, _Tyto Tenebricosa_ , member of the Trainee Owls, best tracker of the five.

 **UKLAH** : Barn Owl, _Tyto Alba_ , member of the Trainee Owls, smartest of the five.

 **UNK:** Great Horned Owl, _Bubo Virginianus_ , pit guardian in St. Aggies, leads Ginger and her troops to the Amazon and to the United States in search of the missing General.

 **NIGEL:** Sulfur-Crested Cockatoo, _Cacatua Galerita_ , vagabond, sought revenge on Blu for hindering his flight capabilities, accepts an offer to join the Tytonic Union.

* * *

THE GUARDIANS OF GA'HOOLE

* * *

 **BORON** : Snowy Owl, _Bubo Scandiacus_ , King of the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, poses the greatest threat to the Tytonic Union.

 **BARRAN** : Snowy Owl, _Bubo Scandiacus_ , Queen of the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, Boron's mate.

 **SOREN** : Barn Owl, _Tyto Alba_ , leader of the Band, Kludd's younger brother.

 **GYLFIE** : Elf Owl, _Micrathene Whitneyi_ , navigator of the Band, Soren's best friend.

 **DIGGER** : Burrowing Owl, _Speotyto Cunicularious_ , tracker of the Band.

 **TWILIGHT** : Great Grey Owl, _Strix Nebulosa_ , warrior of the Band.

 **ALLOMERE** : Great Grey Owl, _Strix Nebulosa_ , leader of the Search-and-Rescue Chaw at the Great Ga'Hoole Tree, secretly a slipgizzle of the Tytonic Union that leads his Guardian Chaw to their fate.

* * *

THE RED MACAW CLAN

* * *

 **FELIPE:** Scarlet Macaw, _Ara Macao_ , leader of the Red Clan, forms an alliance with the Pure Ones.

 **CAESAR:** Scarlet Macaw, _Ara Macao,_ trained warrior, Felipe's younger brother.

 **MARIO:** Scarlet Macaw, _Ara Macao_ , trained warrior, Felipe and Caesar's younger brother.

 **MARCO:** Scarlet Macaw, _Ara Macao_ , former leader of the Red Clan, is skeptical of the Pure Ones upon their arrival. Felipe, Caesar and Mario's father.

* * *

THE BLUE MACAW CLAN

* * *

 **EDUARDO:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii,_ leader of the Blue Clan, Jewel's father.

 **JEWEL:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii,_ newcomer to the Blue Clan from Rio de Janeiro, Eduardo's long lost daughter.

 **BLU:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii,_ newcomer to the Blue Clan from Rio de Janeiro, Jewel's mate.

 **BIA:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii,_ Blu and Jewel's intellectual daughter.

 **CARLA:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii,_ Blu and Jewel's eldest daughter.

 **TIAGO:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii,_ Blu and Jewel's son.

 **ROBERTO:** Spix's Macaw, _Cyanopsitta Spixii_ , Eduardo's best wingman.

* * *

OTHERS

* * *

 **COMMANDER SCOTT:** Bald Eagle, _Haliaeetus Leucocephalus,_ founder and head of the American Feathered Force(A.F.F.)

 **FAMILY:**

 **SKYE:** Mate  
 **BETHANY:** Daughter, only child

 **SILVIA:** Silver-laced Wyandotte, Gallus Gallus Domesticus, Commander Scott's nestmaid.

 **DICTATOR JUGEMBULAM:** Black Kite, _Milvus Migrans,_ leader of the North Korean Shredders, bent on destroying the land of the free, along with the A.F.F., now deceased.


	18. Preview Page

p style="text-align: center;"Keep your eyes peeled for the next issue!/p  
p style="text-align: center;""GINGER'S ADVENTURES VI: GINGER AND THE GREAT HORNED MARVEL"/p  
p style="text-align: center;"emMere weeks have passed since the return of Ginger's squadron from the Amazon and the United States. All seems well untilbr /unconfirmed /ememreports of supernatural activity begin flooding in from the Forest of Ambala. Along with her fellow Tytos, Gingerbr /is sent to investigate the odd /em/p  
p style="text-align: center;"emUltimately, it turns out that the strange activity was not supernatural at all, rather the work of a Great Horned Owl, who claimsbr /to be from the outside. While she intends no harm to the Owl Kingdoms, her course of actions could spell out doom for thebr /secrecy of the hidden island. It's up to the brightest minds of the Tytonic Union, as well as the Horned Owl herself, to ensure thebr /security of the Owl Kingdoms, so that they can never be disturbed by the presence of /em/p 


End file.
